


Torn in Thirds

by TAFKAmayle



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23525317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAmayle/pseuds/TAFKAmayle
Summary: Ryan Haywood is a man buried under several masks. With them, he’s the Vagabond. When he discovers his soulmates, he has to face his identity without them.TW: This fic contains a Ryan Haywood character.Dedicated to TheWorldIsWild who inspired this fic! Thank you for your support!
Comments: 88
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

Vagabond didn’t flinch when the phantom blow landed as he saw the physical one land right in front of him. Internally, Ryan suddenly screamed with realization that he was watching his soulmate get mugged. A shock of sandy hair was all he could see between the group as another blow landed.

How many years had Ryan wondered where the guy was, what he did that got him so injured? Well, since puberty, he’d wondered. When his own traumas suddenly started getting added to by the phantom traumas of his soulmate. And now, years of wondering and considering and debating about finding him and Vagabond had stumbled across him in a fucking alleyway.

“Oi, you gonna gawk all day, mate?” A voice from the middle of the group squawked at him, “If you’re not helping or hurting, jog on. Or do you get off on this, Vagabond?”

Ryan’s eyes widened slightly. Hidden in the shadows, none of the three harassing him had seen him, but his soulmate had. Vagabond took half a step forward as three heads swiveled around to look at him. He tilted his head curiously, as though deciding his course of action. His soulmate struck.

He slammed his right foot into one thug’s crotch, then threw a fist and an elbow. Vagabond stepped towards the group, now again preoccupied by subduing his soulmate who didn’t take much to subdue. Vagabond didn’t flinch at the phantom blows, continuing to walk forward at a leisurely pace. As though his mind wasn’t screaming at him to move faster to save him.

They were easy to kill, a fact that worried Ryan. His soulmate had a big mouth for someone taken down by three weak thugs. When they were dead, he looked down at the boy who was his soulmate. He was trembling as he looked up at Vagabond. He hadn’t been afraid of the three hurting him, but he shook in fear of Vagabond. 

“I-I’ll make it worth y-your while n-not to kill me,” the boy stuttered.

Vagabond gripped his chin, ignoring his words in favor of evaluating the bruises on his face. Then his gaze swept down his body. He was holding one arm to his side. It was dislocated. That explained why Ryan’s shoulder had suddenly hurt and then started aching the last hour. The boy was shaking so bad he started sending jolts of fresh pain through their linked shoulders. 

Vagabond gripped his shoulder and pinned him to the wall as he gripped the boy’s wrist. 

“N-no, please, d-!“

His frantic cries were silenced when Vagabond popped his arm back in place. He whimpered and flinched. The pain subsided significantly and the kid looked at his shoulder in surprise. He moved it a little as Vagabond let it go. It was sore and stiff, but back where it belonged. He looked up at Vagabond with a shocked look.

“Y-you fixed it!” He exclaimed, lifting his other hand to touch it gingerly, “What-Why would you d-do that?”

_I wonder._ Ryan’s heart squeezed at the frightened look in his green eyes. _So this is him? This is the one suffering so much pain? Who hurts you, little boy? Show them to me. I will destroy every single one of them. No one gets away with hurting what is mine._ He brushed his knuckles across his bruised cheek. 

He wanted him, he realized. He wanted to fuck him. Wanted to fuck him _now._ He wanted to make him his. Wanted to claim his property. The boy was watching him closely, nervously. He blushed and looked down at the pavement.

“I-I’ve never d-done it before,” he mumbled.

_What the fuck is he talking about?_ The kid twisted his hands together anxiously.

“Y-You’ll have to, um, t-tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” he added.

_Doing what wrong??_ The kid carefully lowered himself to his knees and lifted his hands to Vagabond’s belt. 

_I’ll make it worth your while not to kill me._

Ryan couldn’t help his angry reaction to that. He slapped his hands away and hauled him back up. The boy was terrified, gripping Vagabond’s arm like he could ever break the hold he had on his shoulder. Vagabond pulled a knife and held the handle out to him. The boy carefully took it and Vagabond held his hand, showing him how to flick it open and slash outwards.

“O-oh,” the kid muttered, “Y-you’re... you’re just being nice.”

He looked up at Vagabond’s cold, blank eyes. A grin suddenly spread on his face.

“Vagabond has a tiny soft spot, huh?” He teased, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

He reached up and gripped Vagabond’s leather jacket. He pulled him down and pressed a light kiss to the mask. Ryan blushed without breaking character. He finally released the kid’s shoulder.

“I’m Golden Boy, by the way,” he informed him as he also let go, “But you can call me lover if you like.”

_Flirting. He’s actually flirting with the Vagabond._ He started to walk away, but Ryan’s hand shot out to grip his bicep and haul him back. He put one hand over his eyes and took off the mask with the other. He pressed his lips to Gold’s firmly. Gold pressed back, his lips parting to deepen it immediately. They mouthed at each other while Ryan’s brain displayed all sorts of warnings about this being dangerous. 

Then he pulled off and turned Gold’s head aside to bite down and suck a claiming mark on his neck. Gold groaned, pawing at his shirt weakly. After he was sure it was dark enough to last days, he nipped at his ear.

“You are mine now,” he growled.

Gold shuddered.

“Yes, s-sir,” He squeaked.

Vagabond put his mask back on and released him. 

“Wh-when will I see you again?” He asked quietly, face red.

Vagabond didn’t answer.

~

Ryan jolted in surprise as the person suddenly hopped on his bike. 

“Fucking go!” They hissed.

He went. Why he did that, he’d never know, but he did. Their thighs squeezed his hips and one of their hands gripped his shoulder. They were looking back, twisting a bit to check for pursuit, probably. Ah, he’d just been someone’s spontaneous getaway. They turned back forward and wrapped their arms around his waist. 

He frowned and his hand shot to where they were lifting his wallet. He gripped their wrist tightly with a low growl in his throat. He winced as he felt the grip on his own wrist. _Wait, what?_ He lightened up his grip then tightened it again, his own wrist mirroring the pain fluctuation. _Gold?_

“Haha, oops,” he giggled in his ear.

_Not Gold._ He released his wrist to grab his wallet back and turned off in an alleyway. The guy slid off, but made no move to run for it. Ryan frowned at him as he approached. The kid gave him a grin that clearly stated he had no remorse and no fear of Ryan. What else did he take off him? He gripped his bicep and spun them around.

“Hands up, feet spread,” he growled.

“Kinky,” He teased as he obeyed.

Ryan rolled his eyes and patted down his torso. Then he felt around his hips and pushed his hands up his skirt to check his thighs, crotch, and ass. The thigh-high stockings left no room for anything and neither did the flat style shoes. Ryan backed off, satisfied, but utterly annoyed. He nearly got pick-pocketed by his own fucking soulmate. 

_Well, the jury’s still out on that._ He gripped the guy’s bicep, turning him back around. He squeezed until they both winced. No doubt about it, the kid was soul bonded with him. He gripped his chin, moving his head back and forth. Way too pale to be Gold, eyes too dark, hair too curly. This really was someone else. Ryan’s brain whirled. Is it even possible to have two soulmates? Did Gold die? Did you get a new soulmate if the first one died? The guy scowled at him.

“Don’t you know it’s fucking rude to mess up a boy’s makeup?” He grumbled.

“You’re lucky I don’t mess up more,” Ryan growled, “Did you hop on with the intention of stealing from me?”

“No,” The guy grunted, “I just thought you were easy prey when you took off like that without hesitation.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and released him, turning away.

“So you must be a criminal, right?” The guy pressed on, “I haven’t been caught by a civvie in fucking _years.”_

“Yes,” Ryan answered curtly, as he mounted his bike.

“You’re not just going to fucking leave me here, are you?” The guy demanded.

“You’re a thief,” Ryan grunted, starting his bike, “Steal a ride home.”

“Fine, I will!” The guy snapped.

Then, before Ryan could move, he plopped himself back on Ryan’s bike and wrapped his arms around him. 

“I think I’ll take this seat,” he grumbled, “Doesn’t seem like it’s taken by anyone else.”

Ryan sighed heavily, ignoring the rude implication. 

“How do I get rid of you?” He muttered.

“Well, you can start by taking me to Longview Heights,” the guy suggested, resting his chin on Ryan’s shoulder, “Then you can let me ride you as hard as you ride this bike.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. _Thieves. Always with the fake flirting._ He pulled out of the alleyway and made his way towards the apartments in question. 

“Put it back, thief,” He grunted as one of his knives was lifted.

“I’m just fucking looking!” The guy protested, “And it’s Michael.”

“I don’t care,” Ryan answered.

“Fucking asshole!” Michael huffed.

He lasted two seconds before he was taking something else. _Great. My second soulmate is a fucking klepto._ He’d taken and replaced the entire contents of Ryan’s pockets by the time they made it to his place.

“Well, you comin’ up, handsome?” Michael asked, as he slid off.

“No,” Ryan answered firmly.

The last thing he needed was another soulmate. And he definitely didn’t need to fuck him. Oh and why the hell were they both so fucking young?? What the fuck was the universe trying to say?? He already felt sufficiently creepy, he didn’t think it needed to get worse.

Michael put an arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his ear.

“You sure, stallion?” He whispered, “Bet you’d like to mount me.”

He did want to, but that was beside the point. He couldn’t help the way his eyes dropped to the little pleated skirt. Skirts were easier to get out of the way. Just flip it up and you get free access. His hand rubbed over the back of Michael’s thigh, before he ran it up the skirt and groped his ass. 

“Not _here!”_ Michael hissed at him.

Ryan retracted his hand, rolling his eyes.

“You started it, kid,” he pointed out.

He turned back ahead and shifted to move forward. 

“W-wait, wait!” Michael called, “Will you take my fucking number at least?”

Ryan sighed and pulled out his phone. The kid quickly typed in his number and handed it back.

“Actually text me though,” he demanded, “Don’t fucking ghost me.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and finally took off. He really shouldn’t play with fire here. Two soul bonds. He didn’t even want _one._ But at least it made sense now why he’d felt so many triggers. And it eased his mind to know Gold hadn’t suffered all of that. Still, it meant both of them had suffered greatly.

He felt a burning need to hug them, shield them from danger, kiss their pains away. Maybe it was just the soul bond, but he suddenly felt protective and lonely. Or maybe he’d been lonely all along and only just realized it. He ached to see them, to be with them, learn more about them, but cold fear clamped on his guts. 

Having a soulmate meant having a weakness. A soulmate could hurt you more than just through soul triggers. And he had _two._

~

_ Knock knock knock! _

Ryan rolled to the side to squint at his alarm clock. 9:23am. _Three hours of sleep. I’m gonna kill whoever’s out there._ He stumbled out of bed and shuffled towards the door. The cat brushed between his legs and he paused to scratch his head before opening the door. 

He blinked blearily trying to grasp why he wasn’t seeing a face, but only the top of someone’s head. He tilted his head down. _Small._ They frowned up at Ryan. They were a whole head shorter than him. Ryan could rest his chin on the top of their head, an observation that made him blush. 

“Hi, um, sorry to wake you,” The person spoke up, “I’m looking for-Scooter! There you are!”

They dropped, holding their hands out to the cat. The cat trotted up, rubbing his face against the person’s hands. 

“You’re a shit, you know that?” The person grumbled as they scooped him up, “I was worried sick!”

Ryan’s brain sluggishly began to catch up.

“He’s yours,” he realized, “He keeps coming to my balcony and crying until I let him in.”

The person sighed as they stood.

“Sorry about that,” they mumbled, “He’s a bad kitty. Yes, I’m tal-OW!”

Ryan jolted as the bite also pressed on his finger. The guy hissed, bring his finger to his mouth.

“Not nice!” He huffed at the cat, “I’m going to dropkick your ass out a window, you little jerk.”

Ryan felt dizzy. _Three? Three. Three?!_

“You’re James, right?” The guy spoke up, “I get your mail sometimes.”

_Fucking shit. He knows my name._

“I’m Jeremy,” he added, “It’s nice to meet you.”

_And I’m not wearing anything but boxers and a T-shirt. No paint, no contacts, no mask. I’m literally just James on my rawest level._

“Y-Yes, I-I mean, y-you too,” Ryan sputtered, blushing again.

Jeremy smiled at him.

“Hey, would you like to get coffee sometime?” He offered.

_Coffee. He’s asking me on a date. A date. Me on a date with the adorable neighbor whose cat likes me._

“Y-Yes, I-I mean maybe, s-sure,” Ryan stammered, “N-no, actually. Pr-probably n-not, s-sorry. I-I’m tired, I sh-should, um, goodbye!”

He slammed the door back closed and locked all his locks. Then he closed his balcony door and locked that, then he double checked all his windows. He sat on his bed, covering his face. _That was the worst, most awkward experience of my life! Three. Three. Three._ He covered his mouth, rocking anxiously. 

_I have to move. I can’t live in the same building as one of them. Too close. Three of them, all here in LS. I can’t stay here. I need to move. Okay, okay._ He stood, pacing around. 

He needed the Vagabond’s reputation to get jobs, so he was limited to west coast. San Fierro or Las Venturas were his best choices next to Los Santos. He’d done jobs in both. Venturas was probably the cheapest place to move to. Though it was a place filthy with vices even worse than LS. Venturas criminals were a lower class than Ryan had grown accustomed to. Ro on the other hand was expensive to move to, though their criminals were a touch classier than Venturas.

He rubbed his face tiredly. Only LS had people like him. LS was filled with characters, loud, crazy, larger than life characters. In LS, everyone had a mask, not just Ryan, even if most of them weren’t physical ones. He didn’t actually want to leave. It was the only place he might’ve called home if he could’ve had one of those.

He sighed and sat back on the bed. He didn’t want to move into the scum-crusted Venturas. Ro was his best bet. But he was going to need a good job to get enough moving money. _A heist._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s a bit long. ^_^’
> 
> @1stworldmutant to find out how to get the new chapters before everyone else. ;P


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan wanted to know what deity thought they were funny because he was going to kick their fucking ass. Here he was, _trying_ to avoid his soulmate problem and there they were (two of them anyway) standing right in front of him. He should’ve asked Kingpin who the others in the heist were. He hadn’t bothered to ask because Vagabond didn’t care who he worked with. Ryan, on the other hand, was screaming internally again.

Gold was draped over Michael, something that sent a confusing possessiveness through Ryan. On the one hand he wanted to tear apart anyone who touched what was his, but since they were both his, it complicated his feelings. He was considering what it was exactly he wanted. Then Gold spotted Vagabond and launched at him.

Vagabond easily side-stepped him, gripping his shirt to stop him from falling. He pulled him back vertical and released him. He tried to launch at him again, this time getting his arm caught and looped behind his back. He grinned over his shoulder nevertheless, green eyes sparkling with delight.

“Heya, V!” He called cheerfully, “Long time no see!”

_“You_ know the Vagabond?” Michael snorted.

_Is it ironic that you know the face under the Vagabond mask?_ Ryan wondered.

“Not as well as I’d like to,” Gold laughed, winking at Vagabond’s blank stare.

_He’s flirting with the Vagabond again,_ Ryan registered, but did nothing about. 

“Hey, not to be a spoilsport,” the third kid spoke up, “But, unfortunately, we need the Golden Dumbass alive, with both arms attached.”

Some part of Ryan wanted to hurt the kid just to be sure he couldn’t add them to the list. _I really am losing my damn mind._ He released Gold. 

“BrownMan, you always spoil my fun,” Gold groused.

_BrownMan, sniper, 41 confirmed one-shot kills,_ Ryan recalled. As he understood it, the guy was in high demand, people were scrambling to hire him. Ryan never would’ve guessed he was so young. 

Gold turned around to face the Vagabond who pointed an emotionless stare down on him. He seemed unperturbed by his cold look, just grinning happily at him. He pulled a knife and flicked it open, slashing it as Vagabond had taught him. 

“I’ve been practicing!” He informed him proudly, bouncing.

Ryan stepped back, lifting his hand to signal for him to go ahead. Gold’s eyes went wide and he brought his hands together excitedly. He certainly seemed eager to show Vagabond that he was tougher now. He put his hands up, flipping the knife back and forth before settling it pointing away from Vagabond. Vagabond mirrored his stance, sans the knife. _Show me what you’ve got, kid._

Gold danced forward, slashing towards his chest. Vagabond side-stepped again, knocking his wrist aside. Gold flipped the knife to stab at his side and Vagabond knocked his hand down. He slashed back upwards, ghosting past his thigh. He dodged back and reset. Vagabond mirrored his position again. He stabbed forward, towards his side. 

Vagabond gripped his wrist, stopping it, though he realized a second slower than he should’ve that it wasn’t aimed to hit him. The knife dropped, was caught and slashed towards his throat. Vagabond caught the hand before it would’ve done damage, but the little shit had tricked him. Gold’s grin got impossibly wide. Vagabond released him and gripped his chin, turning his face to look for old bruises.

“No more bruises,” Gold assured him happily.

_Only a few months and he’s already this good._ Ryan couldn’t stop the smile that spread on his face. He released his chin and patted the top of his head. Gold brightened, making a pleased humming sort of noise and pushing his head up against Vagabond’s hand. _Kitty._ Vagabond retracted his hand quicker than Ryan really wanted to.

_He’s just like a little kitty. My little golden kitty._

“You’ll have to teach me more,” Gold suggested, “Some day I’ll be as good as you.”

Vagabond doubted that very much. Gold bounced on the balls of his feet and leaned up towards his ear.

“I’d love for you to teach me some other lessons too, master,” he breathed.

Though Vagabond didn’t show it, Ryan’s cock was hard almost before he finished the last word. _No no no! We’re leaving town, we’re ignoring this danger._ Gold gave him a mock martial artist sort of bow and winked at him again before bouncing back to hang himself over Michael. God, it was such a pretty danger though. The type of danger that might almost be worth it. BrownMan slid off his perch on the car and came over.

“It’s BrownMan, if you didn’t catch it earlier,” he muttered, sounding tired, “I do guns. We’re paired up tonight. Do you talk at all?”

Vagabond shook his head.

“Okay,” BrownMan answered, “You cool if I call you V?”

Vagabond nodded curtly.

“Aces,” he mumbled.

He fell silent then fell asleep. Vagabond gripped him by the back of his hoodie to stop him from falling. The kid blinked blearily at him before using him as a safety line and falling asleep again. Vagabond almost let him drop. Thankfully he didn’t have to hold him long. Kingpin and Eagle Eye pulled in after about five minutes and honked a horn that sounded like a bugle.

James and BrownMan both stiffened, snapping into legitimate attention. They turned their heads, squinting at each other suspiciously as they relaxed out of their stances. _This kid is way too young to be ex-military. Then again, I guess I was pretty young when I joined up._ They stopped eyeing each other as the final two members of the heist group came forward. 

“Ah, all here,” King commented lightly, “Vagabond, you’ve met Gold and I, but I think this is your first meeting of Eagle Eye, BrownMan, and Mogar.”

They each waved in turn. _Mogar. Mogar was an explosives expert, wasn’t he? Demo expert and pickpocket. Interesting._

“Ahem, anyway,” King spoke up after Vagabond made no acknowledgment, “Let’s have a quick rundown on the plan and then hop to it.”

~

Things were going well right up until the fuzz showed. Vagabond hated pigs. It was the one feature of Ryan that he allowed to leak through to his alter ego. Vagabond only ever showed one emotion: anger and it was almost always directed at any unfortunate pig that got in his way. 

The LSPD were idiots, terrible at their jobs and even worse at staying alive. You could line up dozens of them and execute them one by one and each one would still be shocked they died. They had few detectives and even fewer that made it to retirement. So when they showed, Vagabond had no fear of them.

He forgot that stupidity is often as big a threat as intelligence. They open fired on where Mogar had placed an explosive. From the balcony he was on, Vagabond could see some officers were inside as the bomb went off. _They effectively trapped their own guys in. Dumbasses._ Ryan’s heart clenched in fear for Michael and Gold, but got word over the earpiece that they made it out. Behind him, BrownMan shattered a window. 

Vagabond started to follow him out when searing pain erupted on his arm. He stumbled, surprised and turned back to check where the other two were. They weren’t in the bank, but that’s where the fire was. His eyes swept over the officers trapped inside. One was holding up the smoldering remains of a desk, pulling out one of the others. 

After the trapped pig was freed, the other stood, holding his arm to his side. The arm that pulsed with pain on Ryan. _There’s no fucking way that’s a coincidence. Four?! Fucking four?!?!_ The others were shouting at him as he stared in shock, mouth open under the mask. The balcony on the other side collapsed, snapping him from his daze. He watched his pig soulmate get trapped and winced as his felt the pillar against his lower back. None of the other pigs stopped to help him, instead hightailing it to the rear exit of the building. _Disloyal cowards!_ Ryan’s guts churned. _Fucking pigs!_

“V, come on, man!” BrownMan called, “This place has no structure apparently. We need to move.”

Ryan moved, but he went forward, not back. Over the railing of the balcony. He landed on a desk and hopped to the floor. BrownMan informed everyone over the coms that Vagabond went rogue and Ryan tossed the earpiece. He rushed to the pig’s side and his heart stuttered in his chest. _Not four. Three._

“Oh fuck,” Jeremy grunted at his approach, “Come on man, I’m already dead.”

Ryan crouched down and shoved his shoulder under the pillar, pushing up to lift it. He huffed as the pain in his back subsided and Jeremy quickly crawled out. He stumbled to his feet and took one step before falling again. Ryan scooped him up bridal style and moved to the back exit.

“Wh-Why?” Jeremy questioned, sputtering on smoke. 

Ryan didn’t respond, too afraid of what he’d reveal. He got through the door and carried him away from the building until he thought it was safe enough. He lowered him to the ground, but didn’t let go. He took his wrist to check his burned arm then took a quick look over the rest of him. He looked okay. He was probably going to be okay. Didn’t look like anything was seriously wrong anyway.

Ryan’s pounding heart relaxed to some degree. Finally, he looked into Jeremy’s eyes. He looked confused, utterly baffled, and a bit nervous. It was no surprise that he would be. Vagabond rarely cared if anyone lived or died. In fact he actively tried to kill loads people. Especially pigs.

Ryan reached out, suddenly filled with the urge to touch him, to make sure he was real. His fingertips brushed over Jeremy’s now red cheek. He hated that he was a pig. But of course three was a pig. _What, did I think I’d just have three soulmates and never have to face disappointment??_ But he was a damn cute little piggy. Jeremy squinted at him suspiciously.

“You’re...attracted to me?” He guessed, sounding doubtful, “If-if you even try-”

He interrupted himself by coughing on smoke. Ryan’s eyes trailed down his body. His blood was on fire. He suddenly wanted to kiss him, fuck him, claim him. As his coughing stopped, Ryan brushed his fingertips over his throat. Jeremy swallowed under them. Ryan wanted to bite a mark there so he and everyone who saw him knew he was Ryan’s.

“I-I thought y-you hated cops?” Jeremy stammered.

_I do. Pigs are disgusting._

“D-did you save me t-to...to rape me?” Jeremy mumbled nervously.

Anger surged up inside him and Ryan’s hand squeezed around his throat. _How dare you suggest that?!_ Ryan winced as he felt the pain on his own throat. Sirens distracted him from the sudden blind bloodlust he was spiraling into and he jumped away from him.

He quickly disappeared, forcing Vagabond back into place to catch up with the others. _Great, I’ve gone full creep. Honestly, who wouldn’t make that conclusion with how I just acted?_ He felt a slap on his face as he jogged to their meetup point.

“We have to!” Gold shrieked, “No man left behind!”

“You slap me again, I’ll cut off your _fucking_ hands, Gavin,” Michael growled.

Ryan faltered. _Gavin._ Gold’s real name was Gavin.

“I’ll give both to go back for him!” Gavin insisted, “You don’t leave crew behind!”

“You’re just freaking ‘cause you’re gay,” BrownMan spoke up.

Vagabond moved towards them as Gavin sputtered a denial. As soon as Gavin saw he was there, he launched towards him, but Vagabond didn’t dodge him. He hugged him tightly around his middle and Vagabond patted his head. 

“You scared me!” Gavin cried, “I thought you were gonna die in there!”

Vagabond pulled back enough to lift Gavin’s face to look for injuries. Gavin rubbed at his teary eyes.

“I-I’m okay,” he assured him.

_The Vagabond does have a soft spot, doesn’t he?...No, he has three._ Ryan wasn’t going to run away. He was going to run forward, right into danger. Just as he had a few minutes ago. Just as he always had. 

~

_Knock knock knock!_

Ryan sighed heavily and peeked at the alarm clock. _12:41pm._ He grunted as he got to his feet. He snagged his sweatpants and pulled them on as he shuffled to the door. It was probably Jeremy, since the cat had been there earlier. It was.

“He’s not here now,” Ryan mumbled tiredly, “Not as far as I know anyway.”

“No, um, Scooter’s at home,” Jeremy assured him, “Actually I was wondering if you’d like to watch a movie with me.”

_A date. Jeremy’s asking me on a date._ Ryan blushed and shifted a bit to block more of himself behind the door.

“L-like right n-now?” He sputtered nervously.

“Well, whenever you’re feeling up to it,” Jeremy answered, “I rented a movie, so we don’t have to go out. And I’m on medical leave, so I’m free all day.”

“M-medical leave?” Ryan squeaked.

_I didn’t think it was that bad..._

“Yeah...I got a bit burned,” Jeremy explained, suddenly looking hesitant, “Nothing serious, but honestly I needed a few days to recover mentally.”

He fidgeted, looking distant a moment. Ryan felt a swell of guilt inside him. 

“O-okay, you can...come in, if-if you want,” he murmured, stepping back to let him in.

_Danger: meltdown possible!_

Jeremy stepped inside looking in much better spirits and Ryan started locking up all his locks. Jeremy cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at him. Ryan hesitated. Most people wouldn’t like being locked in, would they? But...he couldn’t _not_ lock all his locks. Jeremy patted his forearm, causing him to jolt in surprise.

“It’s okay, you can lock them,” he assured him, unfazed by his jumpiness.

Ryan quickly finished locking his locks with a sigh of relief. He led Jeremy to his couch and tv. Jeremy handed over the movie and Ryan put it on before sitting next to him on the couch. His hands twisted in his lap as the movie started. Jeremy was only a few feet away from him. Ryan wasn’t in anything. No Vagabond, no nothing to hide behind. He was _sweating._ Jeremy shifted closer to him.

_Warning: meltdown imminent!_

“You’re a bit far away, James,” Jeremy teased, “I promise I don’t bite...without permission.”

Ryan’s already blushing face went redder than ever as he slid a bit closer. Jeremy put his arm around him, pulling him closer and Ryan jumped in surprise. He turned to look at Jeremy only to have him reach up and grab the back of his neck to haul him into a kiss. Ryan’s eyes went wide as Jeremy kissed him.

_Warning! Warning! Warning!_

Ryan melted against him, eyelids dropping as he pushed back. _Warm. Sweet. Eager._ Ryan felt dizzy as Jeremy’s hands began to wander. He broke the kiss to moan loudly as Jeremy’s hand reached in his sweats and gripped his dick. It took Ryan a second to snap to work, fumbling with Jeremy’s belt as the guy slowly jacked him off. 

“So cute,” Jeremy groaned in his ear, “So sweet. I should’ve known I’d need my hands on you immediately. I was really trying to resist. Didn’t want to scare you off. But look at you. So eager.”

Ryan looked away, embarrassed, but didn’t stop until he finally had Jeremy’s cock in his hand. Jeremy shuddered and Ryan watched as precum spilled out of the tip of his dick. Ryan let out a growling noise low in his throat and pushed Jeremy down flat on his couch. Jeremy stared up at him surprise and groaned, eyes going hooded as he watch him. Ryan licked his lips as he leaned down. Jeremy gasped and moaned and Ryan’s tongue swiped up his cock, lapping up the small streak of precum. Jeremy’s hips jerked up and Ryan shoved them back down.

“Be still,” he growled.

Jeremy shuddered, panting as he tried to obey, but still squirmed. Ryan opened his mouth and sank down on him. Jeremy hissed, hands immediately snapping to his head. His fingers threaded through Ryan’s loose hair. Ryan pulled up and pushed back down and Jeremy’s hands tightened, pressing hard against his scalp. 

A surge of worry pushed up through Ryan’s chest. _Fuck, if he pulls my hair he’ll find out._ Jeremy’s hands tightened into fists and Ryan panicked, quickly pulling at his hands. Jeremy quickly released his fists, brushing his hands through his hair soothingly.

“S-sorry,” He grunted.

Ryan hummed his approval and rubbed his hands over his hips. _Good boy._ Jeremy relaxed against the couch, running his hands through Ryan’s hair and groaning softly as Ryan’s head moved up and down. Ryan sucked and Jeremy moaned, his beautiful thighs squeezing around Ryan’s head. Ryan groaned around him, gripping his cock to quickly get him off before he exploded in his own pants. 

“F-fuck! J-James!” Jeremy cried.

His body arched into Ryan’s mouth, desperate to get off. He jerked through the hand Ryan was pinning him with and slammed into his face. Ryan swallowed as he released deep in his throat, hoping Jeremy was out of it enough to not realize his jaw hurt suddenly. As he stopped pumping into Ryan’s mouth, he pulled back, twisting to grab Jeremy’s hair and shove his face into his lap. 

Jeremy fumbled a moment, choking around him and Ryan groaned. _This is so rude to do when I just stopped him._ He shuddered at the feeling of tingly stinging of his hair being pulled as he fucked Jeremy’s face. Jeremy choked and moaned around him, gripping his sweats tightly. Ryan’s face ached worse as what he was doing to Jeremy’s translated over to his. His head dropped back and he panted.

“F-fuck, you feel s-so fuckin good!” He moaned, “What a good boy, takin m-me so good. God, I could fuck your face f-forever.”

Jeremy moaned loudly and his back dipped. _Presenting. He’s presenting for me._ Ryan shouted as he came, shoving his head down flush with his pelvis. Jeremy’s hand rapidly slapped against his thigh and Ryan yanked him up. Jeremy gasped and coughed, sputtering around Ryan’s cum. Ryan practically slammed their heads together to kiss him, drinking the cum out of his mouth before he could swallow it all down. 

“F-fuck,” Jeremy choked as he pulled away, “James...y-you’re...s-something else.”

He kissed Ryan, holding his face gently. Ryan blushed deep red and Jeremy planted another kiss on him. Ryan lifted a hand, gripping Jeremy’s wrist lightly, struggling to meet his gaze. When he finally did, Jeremy was frowning at him. Ryan felt anxiety chew at his insides like a dog gnawing a bone.

“J-Jeremy?” He mumbled nervously.

Jeremy blinked rapidly and shook his head.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled weakly, “Just got this weird sense of deja vu.”

He pulled away and they sat there for an awkward moment. 

“I, um, hope this doesn’t sound douchey,” Jeremy grunted, “But I really wanna nap now. Should I go home?”

He somehow seemed to guess that Ryan didn’t want him to sleep in his apartment. Ryan ejected the movie and opened the door for him. Jeremy hesitated at the threshold. 

“Um, this was...n-nice,” he muttered, face red, “But we should have a proper date some time. Actually watch the movie, maybe.”

He smiled softly and Ryan thought he was melting. _Proper date._ He hid more of himself behind the door.

“O-okay,” He squeaked.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Jeremy laughed, leaning in to kiss him one last time.

“Y-you are,” Ryan sputtered, “C-cute, I mean. Goodbye!”

He closed the door sharply and did up the locks. 

“See you later, James,” Jeremy called brightly through the door.

_Ryan. My name is Ryan!...Isn’t it?_ Ryan crossed his arms over himself and shuffled onto the bedroom. He pulled out the Vagabond lockbox and knelt on the floor. He put his thumb over the lock and pressed in the number. He lifted the lid and looked down into the box.

Two empty eye sockets stared up at him, taunting him as the Vagabond laughed, face pulled into a horrifying grin. It was the last thing people saw when he killed them: the haunted grimace of the Vagabond with his icy blue eyes wide in the sunken sockets. A dead man with shockingly bright, but remorseless eyes. It was a face he knew better than his own. It was a face he saw in the mirror, even when it was locked safely in its box.

His fingers brushed over the Vagabond’s bony cheek. He wasn’t the Vagabond, he had to remind himself. He was Ryan. Wasn’t he? He shakily closed the box, locking it and shoving it back in his closet. He slumped over it. _Who am I? Am I really Ryan? Or is Ryan as much of a lie as the Vagabond?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure about these chapter lengths. You guys met me know if they’re too long. ^_^’
> 
> @1stworldmutant for more angst.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: rape play, dub-con, intense possessiveness

Ryan rubbed the heels of his hands into is temples. He’d written down the worst of the triggers he could remember and started trying to reason who they belonged to. He wasn’t doing amazing at it.

The crushed hand had to be the klepto, retribution for stealing no doubt. The bullet in the ass had to be the pig, no criminal would put their back to a gun. The beat down with a dozen broken bones was the cat, considering his magnetic pull to getting his ass kicked.

He wished he’d recorded any of the shit. At the time he just ignored it, figuring his soulmate didn’t want to deal with him on top of everything else. He’d been trying to pretend he didn’t exist. How cruel of the universe to give him three when he didn’t even want one. But now that he’d met them, he was suddenly extremely protective and possessive of all three of them. _Soul bonds. Ugh._

He was spiraling into a dark need to claim them, to ensure no one touched them, to make sure what was his remained his. But he also found himself just wanting to hold them, kiss away the memories of trauma, and curl around them to cuddle them. After feeling their pains, he felt like he needed to do something about it. He needed to put himself between them and danger. He needed to be the shoulder to hide in when the world was too much. 

He really needed to know they were going to be okay now that he couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist. Not after so many years of knowing their suffering and doing nothing to stop it or help in any way. He had to do _something._

He wondered when each of them hit puberty and started feeling his pain. How old were they? He had a feeling he’d be very distressed to discover the answer. He rubbed over the scar on his shoulder where the tip of the hook had shoved through. He was fifteen at the time he thought. They may not have felt it then. He turned back to his list. He wasn’t even sure why he was bothering. 

He flipped on the news to see if he could distract himself and froze as a familiar face showed up. _Michael?_ Looking extremely pissed off with a group of hostages in a bank. Someone had taken him hostage at a bank, gave the pigs a couple hours to get what they wanted. Amateurs. 

_And look at what he’s wearing. Fuck._ It was a sundress, ombré blue in color, the fluttery skirt laid over his pale legs. He looked _very_ enticing. The remote snapped in Ryan’s hand. _If they even think about touching him-!_ He stood abruptly, dropping the broken remote and hurrying to get the Vagabond box out. He grabbed the pieces quickly and carefully, putting the Vagabond in his backpack.

He had on his public face as he stepped out onto his balcony.

“Er, James?” Jeremy’s voice questioned.

He was on his balcony, looking at Ryan with a confused frown.

“Ryan,” he corrected in a gruff voice.

“Oh, you’re brothers?” Jeremy guessed, “With James?”

Ryan sighed, annoyed, as he made sure the balcony door was locked.

“Do you get him stuff?” Jeremy pressed on, “Because of the agoraphobia?”

Ryan looked at him sharply. _Agoraphobia?_ Jeremy held up his hands defensively.

“I’m not trying to be rude,” he promised, “Just curious. I don’t care. I mean, I-I do, but I’m not trying to use it against him.”

_Agoraphobia, fear of the outside world._ Ryan looked at the balcony door. _He’s never seen me leave through the front. I have eight locks on my front door. I hide behind it when he visits me. I refused to go get coffee with him. Now he catches me going out the balcony looking completely different. Alright. His reasoning checks out._

“Sorry, I don’t have time,” Ryan grumbled dismissively.

“Oh, uh, okay,” Jeremy answered, “Nice meeting you, Ryan.”

Ryan tried to channel Vagabond as he hopped down from the balcony, rolling as he landed. _Ryan, he called me Ryan. I **am** Ryan! _He quickly got to his car, trying to focus. _Michael._

He sped towards his storage unit, circling it, checking it for signs of life before he drove in. He opened the shutters remotely and parked inside the unit. He closed them and hit the light. First he dropped Ryan’s ratty sneakers, dad jeans, and worn leather jacket. Then he pulled on his black work jeans, looping the black belt through them to ensure they stayed up. Then he pulled on the combat boots, tying them as tight as he was taught in the service. 

He changed his contacts from green to ice blue. He pulled out his braid and picked up paint on a comb to run through his loose hair. He tied it into a high, tight ponytail and smoothed the excess paint down. He took the face paint next, quickly swiping it over his eyes and nose. Then he wiped off the paint and pulled on his gloves to hide the leftover black stains. He twisted at his waist, popping his spine and rolled his shoulders before shrugging on the jacket. 

Ryan gathered all his pieces and carefully laid them in the Ryan box. He closed the lid and it locked with a click. The difference between the Vagabond box and the Ryan box was simple. Vagabond was kept in his box to keep him contained. Ryan was put in his box to keep him safe. 

_Alright, final piece._

He retrieved the mask. His thumbs ran over the cheekbones briefly before he turned it and pulled it over his head. He looked at the mirror in the unit and saw only the Vagabond. The Vagabond was confident, a capable man anyone would be scared of. Though some were sure he wasn’t a mortal man. Vagabond’s fingertips touched the cheekbone again. They were sort of right, Vagabond wasn’t mortal, not really. He was an idea, a defense mechanism, a _monster._ Vagabond wasn’t a person.

He turned away and got on his bike. _Let’s have the identity crisis after we rescue Michael._

~

The Vagabond considered walking up to the front door just to see if he could get away with it. But the mission was to ensure Michael’s safety, not flaunt his power. He jumped to the roof from one of the neighboring buildings. As he landed, he felt pain burst through his knuckles. 

Someone just hit something really hard. His face was slammed by some unseen force and his wrists were gripped tightly. A jolt of a memory ran through him and he was sprinting through the roof access door and down the stairs. He stumbled, almost falling as a familiar burning pain shot up his ass. 

“No!” He shouted, gripping the railing. 

He huffed, trying to catch his breath. _Michael, they-!_ He flew down the steps, rushing into the bank’s main floor. The bank robbers flinched at his approach, but he ignored them, looking at the group of hostages. Michael wasn’t there. Of course he wasn’t. He gripped one of the robbers by the throat. They shakily pointed towards the offices. He dropped them.

He stalked to the offices and looked down the hallway. Sounds were coming down from the left. He stormed over and flung open the door. Michael was bent over a table, moaning loudly. His hips were jerking back and forth and drool was running down his chin. He was being held down, but it really wasn’t that restrictive. He’d volunteered for this. He wanted it. Wanted their filthy hands on him. 

Rage exploded in Ryan and he cut through the amateurs touching what was his. Then he gripped Michael’s curly hair to make him look at him. _You let them touch you?!_

“V-vagabond?” He muttered, breathless and surprised, “Wh-What are-?”

Vagabond grabbed his jaw in one hand and used his other to open his pants. Michael swallowed, eyes immediately flicking down to watch him pull his cock out. He groaned softly and obediently opened his mouth. 

Ryan panted harshly as he fucked Michael’s mouth. _Mine. Mine. Mine._ Michael clawed at his thighs, moaning around his cock. Dirty little bitch. If you wanted it so bad, all you had to do was ask. One of his hands left Ryan’s thigh to jerk himself off and Ryan rutted into his face faster. He shoved Michael’s face firmly against him as he came.

“Take all of it, bitch,” Vagabond growled.

Michael choked and came, his whole body shuddering as Ryan pumped jizz down his throat. Ryan released him to let him breathe, laying his head gently on the table. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears and saliva from his face before making sure his thighs and cock were clean. He carefully tugged Michael’s underwear back in place and tipped him over to his back. Michael’s eyes were unfocused.

Vagabond scooped him up carefully, making sure his skirt was covering him properly. Michael squeaked in surprise, grabbing him around the neck on instinct. Vagabond walked to the back exit, through the small group of astonished cops and towards his bike. 

Vagabond didn’t speak. He merely mounted the bike, putting Michael on side-saddle between his legs. He tucked his skirt so it wouldn’t fly up in the wind before taking off. Michael held tightly to him, clearly needing the physical contact. He snuggled his face into Vagabond’s neck in the tiny window of bare skin. 

Vagabond struggled to stay in place, eventually breaking down enough to take one of Michael’s hands and shove it up his shirt so he could get more skin-to-skin contact. Michael relaxed slightly after that, though he was still squeezing close to him.

Ryan didn’t realize where he was going until he was there. Mount Chiliad had a lot of private spots, but there was one particularly peaceful one. The tiniest little cave, with just enough room for a couple people. He parked his bike and carefully made his way to it. He leaned against the rock wall as he held Michael close to him and stared out over the night sky. He listened to Michael’s breathing, running a hand through his hair. 

Now that things had calmed down, he felt sufficiently creepy. But the way Michael snuggled up to him, his cheek rubbing his chest, his warm body cozy against him, Ryan couldn’t have cared less what a creep he’d been. He suddenly felt like crying. When was the last time he’d been this close to someone? 

_Couple days ago. Right._ But even then, Jeremy hadn’t stayed. Of course, Michael probably couldn’t leave. He was slowly coming back, but still mostly out of it. No doubt the Vagabond’s sudden arrival had complicated his rape play session more than he was prepared for. 

_Great. I really am a fucking creep. No wonder everyone thinks I’m going to rape them._ He dropped his head against the wall, pissed off at himself. What was it called? The cycle of abuse? He squeezed his eyes closed. 

He’d been so worried about them hurting him, he’d forgotten he was very likely to hurt them. They were better off without him. He should move to Ro after all. He still had most of the heist money. His arms tightened around Michael. _But I don’t want to let go now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some heavy shit in this fic, I hope you guys are enjoying it. ^_^’
> 
> Hey, it you want to read chapters earlier than everyone else, follow my Twitter and find out how to help support me. I could use all the help I can get! @1stworldmutant


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Death threat, abuse mention

“Been awhile since someone actually bothered to do aftercare,” Michael commented idly when he woke up, “Not sure I expected it from the Vagabond.”

He paused, looking up at him.

“Or do I have the one under the mask to thank for that?” He added softly.

Ryan’s brain was a screaming siren of warning as he gazed down at Michael. _Danger._ So much danger in those searching eyes. Michael smiled.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he assured him.

Ryan almost flinched at how similar he sounded to Gavin. _Were they all very similar?_

“Especially not Goldie,” Michael laughed, looking away again, “I think he has a crush on you.”

_Gee, what a crazy theory._ Michael shifted, moving to straddle his lap. Ryan’s hands gripped his thighs naturally. Michael leaned forward and kissed the mask, trailing his sweet lips across the horrible, stretched out mouth to where the mask ended over his ear. Ryan blushed.

“I like that you didn’t want to share,” he whispered, “I like being your bitch.”

Ryan shuddered, his hands squeezing tighter on Michael’s thighs. Michael’s hands rubbed over his shoulders and suddenly tightened on Ryan’s neck. Not tight enough to hurt, but enough to suggest it _could._

“But if you ever kill my fucking prey again,” Michael growled, “I’ll kill _you_ instead.”

Ryan nearly moaned out loud. _Black widow._ He had to squeeze his eyes closed to quickly slam Vagabond back where he belonged: passively protecting him. As Michael pulled back, Vagabond stared blankly at him. Michael smirked, pulling his hands away.

“You know how I know you were effected by that?” He taunted, “Because Vagabond’s eyes are back.”

Michael had seen too much. Vagabond needed to kill him now. He was a liability. This kill would be easy. All he had to do was push him out of the mouth of the cave. Then he would fall, cracking bones as he tumbled down. Crack, crack, crack, _splat!_ Then his pretty face would be covered in brain matter, skull, and blood. Eyes like glass. His limbs twisted unnaturally. 

But Vagabond didn’t move as Michael shifted and cuddled up against him. He laid his head on Vagabond’s shoulder and fell asleep again. Now would be easier. Now he couldn’t fight back. Vagabond looked down on Michael’s sleeping form. Now the Vagabond could do whatever he wanted. Break his legs to stop him from running, his arms to stop him from fighting, his jaw to stop him from arguing. The Vagabond reached towards him.

He gently tugged the skirt of Michael’s dress back down from where it had ridden up his thighs. The problem was not that Michael could run or fight or argue. The problem was he was _choosing_ not to. The little black widow was curled up in his lap. _Choice._ The choice to stay when he could go, cuddle when he could kill, kiss when he could scream. _That_ was what haunted the man under the Vagabond mask. 

~

Ryan threw up, heaving into the trash as tears and snot ran down his face. Once that was finished he cracked one of the diet cokes and sipped it between rubbing off the paint. He had to be more thorough now that Jeremy had seen him. No doubt if Jeremy saw him coming in, he’d accost him once again. The guy was chatty.

He sighed as he looked in the mirror. Not enough any more. The paint was too dark in his hair. He was going to have to find a way to wash it out. He stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. No. He needed to move. He couldn’t keep living there. But Jeremy was a pig.

He’d ask questions. He’d wonder why his agoraphobic neighbor just vanished one day. Then he’d start to add up the other anomalies and come back with a resounding “something fishy” as the end result. And he knew Ryan’s name. He’d search for him. He’d have to get new ID. _Shit._

For now, he’d have to check into a hotel, get the paint off him. Then he’d see if he could find out who did the best forging in LS. He hadn’t gotten any fake ID in a while. The landlord had a legitimate ID photo of him though. One with his real face on it. He looked in the mirror, reaching up to touch his face. 

He’d been clean shaven for it, he recalled. Hair braided just in case anyone happened to see him on the balcony in the public face. Maybe he’d leave the beard and change his hair just to keep the new raw face less recognizable from the picture. It was the only legitimate picture of his raw face, so if cops started asking around, he’d be harder to recognize from the photo. Change it up enough to not be spotted on sight.

He rubbed his fingers through his beard. Maybe he ought to trim it nicely so he looked less scruffy. He ran his hand through his hair. And maybe a trim there as well. Class up his unruly homeless person hair and face to look more like a respectable member of society. The bags under his eyes though, they’d probably be there for life.

~

Ryan wondered if soul bonds went further than he realized as he nervously stared at the camera in front of him. He’d always assumed they were limited to triggers, to pain. Now he was beginning to believe they were all magnets, drawing him closer. If he did actually run to Ro, would they follow him? 

“And that should do it,” Gavin piped up, looking around the camera, “Unless you want a smiling one.”

Ryan shook his head at, _apparently,_ the masterclass forger, best not only in LS, but the rest of San Andreas as well.

“N-no, thank you,” he murmured, “When will they be ready?”

“Gimme a week,” Gavin answered, “Then they should all be good to go.”

He turned away from Ryan to grab something from his desk.

“Ah, actually make it 4 days,” He amended, “Since you don’t need a passport.”

He turned back around, still looking at the folder in his hands. Ryan felt somewhat confident with the new cleaned up face that he’d be very unlikely to recognize him. But he wasn’t _totally_ sure. Gavin hadn’t seen his raw face, but still, he had seen Vagabond. 

“Ryan?” He muttered, “Is that real?”

He looked up with a smile. Ryan’s heart pounded. _Ryan. Ryan. Ryan._

“Y-Yes,” he answered, realizing he’d waited too long to answer, “M-my name is Ryan.”

Gavin frowned.

“I’m not the 5-0 you know,” he grumbled, “I just wanted to know what to call you.”

“C-call me Ryan!” Ryan blurted, too loud and too quick.

Gavin’s face melted back into a smile.

“Ah, I see, you get called something else usually,” he spoke softly, “A codename. I understand.”

He looked away a moment, smile looking sad.

“Names are interesting, aren’t they?” He murmured, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.”

He paused, sighing.

“Yet,” he continued, “By a name, I know not how to tell thee who I am.”

He looked so distant, Ryan wondered where he’d gone. 

“So insignificantly important,” he whispered.

Ryan felt a sudden urge to hug him, to try to chase the sorrow from his eyes. Gavin shook himself, blushing a bit.

“S-sorry, I get weirdly poetic sometimes,” he chuckled weakly, “So Ryan, can I text this number when it’s all ready?”

“Yes,” Ryan answered, breaking his intense gaze, “Or...um, you could text me more of your poetic insights.”

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. _Am I...flirting? Did I do it right?_ Gavin grinned widely.

“I might take you up on that,” he laughed, “Keep your Friday nights free for awhile.”

He winked and Ryan reeled. _I did it. We flirted. I basically gave him my number._ His face and chest felt warm. He cleared his throat.

“I-I guess I sh-should go?” He mumbled.

Gavin just grinned, eyes sweeping down Ryan’s body.

“Sure, if you want,” he spoke lowly, “Or you could stay and fuck me.”

Ryan’s eyes went wide and he sputtered in surprise. _That was rather blunt, wasn’t it?_

“Third option,” Gavin suggested brightly, “You could let me take some more personal photos of you.”

“P-personal?” Ryan squeaked.

“Yes, that is to say: nude,” Gavin clarified, “I like taking pictures of pretty people.”

_He thinks I’m pretty??_ Ryan looked down hesitantly. If he did it, would Gavin use them later to jerk off? The idea of Gavin panting, hand on his cock as he looked at Ryan’s bare body had Ryan’s perking up significantly. _I am so easily flattered._ He shakily lifted his hands to his button-up and started undoing the buttons. 

Gavin brightened, quickly stepping behind the camera. Ryan wondered why his shirt hand so many fucking buttons. He shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor. Gavin pulled back from the camera again.

“Whoa, hello,” he called, “That’s a lot of scar tissue.”

Ryan self-consciously hugged his arms over his torso.

“Aw, don’t hide!” Gavin pouted, “They’re so pretty!”

Ryan looked away sharply, slowly dropping his arms back down. Gavin came around the camera and approached him practically bouncing with excitement. He reached his hands toward Ryan’s torso and Ryan stiffened automatically. Gavin’s hands stopped midair.

“Is it okay?” He questioned.

Ryan nodded, suddenly feeling utterly lonely and filled with the desire to be touched. Gavin’s fingertips pressed to his skin and he began tracing over the plethora of scars. Ryan suppressed a shiver as Gavin explored his torso. 

“A picture of pain,” Gavin muttered under his breath, “A memory captured on skin, like a faded photo, worth a thousand words you’d like to forget.”

His face was filled with sorrow. Ryan felt a swell of something in his chest. He wasn’t sure what it was. Affection? Longing? Empathy? Gavin’s face suddenly pulled into a confused scowl. His fingertip were lingering on a scar. 

“How did you get this?” He grunted.

Ryan looked down at it. It was a long, deep slash mark across his ribs. The edges were particularly rough because he’d torn his homemade stitches chasing after someone.

“They wanted me to let go of something,” he recalled, “Something I was stealing.”

“Did you?” Gavin prompted, looking back up at him.

“No, of course not,” Ryan scoffed, “I took a long time setting up that job.”

Gavin laughed, his confused curiosity from earlier apparently forgotten. 

“Anyway, your scars are pretty tight,” he chuckled, “You shouldn’t feel self-conscious about them. They’re like a photo album, you know. Keeping track of the memories of your pain.”

“I’d rather forget,” Ryan grumbled.

Gavin clicked his tongue.

“You say that,” he murmured, “But I bet you look at them in the mirror to remind yourself you’re alive.”

Ryan stared at him in shock. How did he know that? Gavin’s fingers went back to kneading his scars and Ryan just stood there, watching his green eyes roam over he skin. He looked at him like he really thought he was beautiful. 

Ryan suddenly leaned forward, taking his face in his hands and kissed him. Gavin hummed, wrapping his arms around his waist as he pressed back and opened his mouth. Ryan’s hands brushed through his unruly hair and he pressed closer. A warm feeling of contentment spread through his body and he relaxed against Gavin whose happy humming seemed to vibrate through his chest. _Kitty. Comfort me my little kitty._

The door of the studio swung open and they both jumped in surprise. Ryan instinctively twisted, putting himself between the threat and Gavin. The threat turned out to be Kingpin, so not really a threat.

“Did you break my favorite glass you little shit?!” He demanded.

Ryan winced, a memory of a hand slapped him across his face. 

“Um, it wasn’t on purpose?” Gavin offered.

“You threw it against a fucking wall!” Kingpin shrieked.

His voice cracked and he pinched the bridge of his nose before he looked back up.

“You better start running,” he growled, “Because when I get ahold of you, I’m farting directly into your face.”

Ryan snorted in surprised laughter, nearly choking himself. Gavin pulled away from him.

“Hmph, well, I’m so glad you’re amused,” he huffed, “Quit it! You’re encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” Ryan snorted, “That’s just not what I was expecting.”

“I’m giving you a head start,” Kingpin grumbled, “I suggest you use it.”

“Well, gotta go!” Gavin chirped, “I’ll text you!”

He pressed a chaste kiss on Ryan’s mouth and took off out the door. Ryan’s face was pink as he swiped his shirt from the floor and pulled it on. 

“This is where a normal man might warn you to not hurt him,” Kingpin spoke up as Ryan started buttoning, “That’d I break your kneecaps or blow your face off with a shotgun. But instead, I’ll tell you this: the Golden Boy may seem innocent and pure, but he’s filled with darkness.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“He can be a real sweet kid,” Kingpin went on, “But if he thinks he needs to protect himself, he will lash out. And he can be quite sadistic when it comes down to it.”

_The kitty has claws._ Ryan swallowed, trying to ignore how his pants bulged at the idea of Gavin lashing out. _I’m a full blown masochist. Here I thought I wasn’t running because I was spiritually drawn to them, but no, I’m not running because I **want** them to hurt me._

~

Ryan pulled himself up over the railing of his balcony, almost squashing the cat where it was laying in front of his door. He sighed heavily as the cat got up and stretched. _Don’t do it._

“Merrow!” The cat protested loudly.

“You know you’re not my cat, right?” Ryan huffed.

“Merow!” 

“Don’t cry at me,” Ryan grumbled, “Go cry at Jeremy.”

“Mau!”

“No, I’m very busy,” Ryan told him sternly, “I can’t let you in right now.”

“Mew! Mew! Mew!”

“You are a very bad cat,” Ryan grunted, stooping down to pick him up.

He started purring, rubbing his face against Ryan’s chest.

“Hey, none of that,” Ryan chided, “You’re not winning. I’m taking you straight home.”

“Pfft-hahahaha!”

Ryan jumped in surprise, head whipping around to see Jeremy with both hands over his mouth trying to stop his laughter. Ryan went crimson.

“Y-you’re encouraging him!” He blurted, unsure why _that’s_ what he said.

Jeremy wheezed with laughter, grabbing his stomach. Ryan’s mouth twitched. _He’s cute like that._ Jeremy wiped his eyes, trying to stop his laughter.

“You know, I thought how can these two be twins??” He sputtered around laughter, “But you guys are really alike.”

Ryan puffed out laughter before he could stop himself. _Yeah, we’re pretty similar alright._

“Oh my god, your laugh is so cute!” Jeremy exclaimed.

Ryan went red again and looked away sharply. _Cute? My laugh is cute?_ He shuffled to the edge of the balcony and held out the cat.

“This is yours,” he mumbled, not looking up.

Jeremy reached out and took the cat into his arms. Before Ryan could pull away completely, he grabbed his hand. He smiled sweetly at him.

“Thanks for putting up with my cat,” he chuckled, “You should come over to my balcony some time.”

Ryan’s heart pounded in his chest.

“O-okay,” he mumbled.

Jeremy squeezed his hand and pulled away, walking back inside. Ryan’s hand just stayed there, stupidly hanging in midair for a moment. He shook himself awake and hurried inside. He quickly locked the balcony door and drew the curtains before checking all the locks in the place. 

He sat on his bed, pulling out his braid and then staring at his hands. He was ruining everything with this. He was fucking up years of work to keep himself safe just because he couldn’t leave them alone. James, Ryan, Vagabond, all his faces were being revealed. Slowly but surely they were peeling back every layer of him like an onion. What was at his center was what most concerned him. When they got there, what would they see? What was he at the very center of himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so long to come out cuz the next chapter took so long. I’ve been utterly exhausted for some reason. Probably corona. Sorry. ^_^’


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: rape play, dub-con

Kingpin lorded over Los Santos as its true king. He could make just about anyone bow to his will. When he entered a place, he was noticed, the royal air about him could hush the noisiest bar.

“Careful now, no sudden movements,” Kingpin instructed cheerfully, “Wouldn’t want anyone getting spooked.”

This was the man who’d threatened to fart on Gavin’s face. Ryan was struggling to maintain composure under the Vagabond mask. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to fight not to _laugh_ as the Vagabond. Normally with such serious situations it was easy not to, but last time he’d seen King, he’d given a very serious speech about the Golden Boy then said “anyway, gotta go put my butt on his face”. 

Ryan was glad to be sent to the vault. _Focus. Focus._ He looked for the appropriate box and pulled his lock picks. Easy enough. Even with Gavin watching him from a few feet away. For some reason. Like he couldn’t just leave the Vagabond alone. 

Vagabond got it open and saw a note propped up on the top of the inner box. A familiar logo was stamped on the front. _FH. FunHaus._ He flipped it open.

“Looks like we unlocked this achievement first! ~Your friends at FH ;)” was scrawled in orange ink.

“Oh, shit,” he grunted. 

“What is it?” Gavin asked behind him.

“HaHa! HaHa!” Chortled from the box.

Ryan stumbled to his feet, grabbing Gavin and sprinting for the vault door. His arms closed around Gavin as they approached the door, pulling him close to his chest as the explosion rocked the place, sending them through the vault door. Ryan’s ears were ringing. He moved, pulling up off Gavin to see if he was okay. 

“There’s easier ways...” Gavin grunted, “To get me under you.”

“Pff!” Ryan snorted, trying to stop his laughter.

Gavin pushed off the ground, excitedly grabbing Vagabond’s jacket.

“Is that a laugh?!” He squealed, shaking him.

His eyes were wide and sparkling. Ryan’s head was still spinning from the explosion. It smelled like smoke and fire. Ryan laughed. Gavin brightened further, grabbing him around the neck in a hug and laughing in return. 

“You saved me!” He squeaked, “You _do_ like me! I knew it!”

Ryan grinned and ruffled his hair. _Yeah, I do, actually._

“Ga-Goldie?!” Kingpin shouted, rushing towards them.

Gavin turned, reaching now for him. Ryan’s eyes narrowed as Kingpin hugged him, lifting him up off the ground. 

“I’m fine, _dad!”_ Gavin grumbled, “Vagabond saved me!”

Ryan got up, brushing dust off himself. He held the card out to Kingpin who scowled as he took it, letting Gavin go. 

“Goddamnit!” He growled, “Those FunHaus fucks! I’m gonna kill those little shits.”

Gavin took the card from his hand and turned it over, swiping his thumb over the back.

“Huh, got a custom order,” he mumbled.

“What does that mean?” Kingpin grumbled.

“Means there’s more,” Gavin grunted, “And I know who they got it from.”

“You think they’ll give them up?” King pressed.

Gavin grinned, looking up at Vagabond. His eyes were filled with mischief. 

“I think we might be able to have a very pleasant conversation,” he assured King, voice dark and dangerous.

Ryan tried to slam Vagabond in place as the danger Gavin exuded pulsed like an aura. _Don’t get a boner! Don’t get a boner! Don’t get a boner!_ He got a boner. _What did I just fucking say?!_

~

“Why do you come in through the balcony?” Jeremy asked as Ryan hopped over the railing.

“Not all of the locks can be opened from the outside,” Ryan admitted.

Jeremy hummed acknowledgement and puffed out a heavy sigh. The smell of tobacco wafted across the short space and Ryan hesitated at the door. He looked over to see Jeremy had sat on the corner of the railing for his balcony, feet dangling over the side. He was in his uniform.

He was in distress. How or why, Ryan didn’t know, but his face screamed sadness and despair. He put his keys away and wandered to the adjacent corner on his own balcony. He hopped up and looked down at the ground below.

“Is...James okay?” Jeremy mumbled after some time, “He’s not been answering the door.”

_Because I’ve been avoiding this place like the plague._

“He’s fine,” Ryan replied, “He’s just not here any more. He’s not very good at goodbyes.”

“Oh, where did he go?” Jeremy pressed further.

“Out of state,” Ryan answered, “There’s a facility up in the North that’s going to help him.”

_Flawless cover. Absolutely nailed the delivery._

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Jeremy sighed, “I was worried. I know shut-ins have a tendency to...well, they’re more likely to kill themselves. I hadn’t seen you, so I thought the worst might’ve-S-sorry. I’m nervous rambling.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan assured him, “I tend to have that effect on people.”

“What, nervousness?” Jeremy snorted, “You think you’re intimidating?”

_Oh. Right. I’m...Ryan to him._ Ryan perked up, grinning at him.

“Hey, I can be scary!” He insisted, laughing.

Jeremy laughed back.

“Really, after you had a full one-sided conversation with my cat?!” He teased.

“He was responding,” Ryan argued, “That means it wasn’t one-sided!”

Jeremy laughed, the anxious sorrow on his face completely ebbing away. _I made him feel better. I did it!_

~

The Vagabond lifted his jacket sleeve to check the time. Gavin was late. Vagabond hated when people were late. When Gavin did finally show up, Vagabond figured he could allow it just this once. 

His hair was as wild as always, though a bit sweatier than usual. He had a skimpy outfit on, clearly a hooker or stripper’s get up. The shorts barely covered his ass and were slung low on his hips. The top left a small patch of his golden skin exposed, showing where he might have a happy trail, but did not. He had a short leather jacket on as well, though one side seemed intentionally pulled down past his bare shoulder. He had torn tights on, but no shoes. And everything was golden and glittering in the moonlight. _Even his eyes,_ Ryan realized. He was wearing contacts. 

“Sorry,” he muttered tiredly as he got off his bike, “Got tied up at work. Had to chase someone across Downtown. Fucker filmed me. Anyway, you ready?”

He pulled a bat off his back and twirled it around in his hands as he popped his neck. He has a melee weapon holster on his stripper outfit. Ryan was forgetting something, he was sure, but he was too focused on Gavin to care. He stepped forward, suddenly needing to grab the younger guy literally _anywhere,_ as long as it was somewhere. The top of the bat pressed to his sternum.

“Ah ah ah!” Gavin tutted, “We have a job to do. You get your hands on me afterwards.”

He smirked and winked before turning and propping the bat on his shoulder. He had a real Harley Quinn vibe about him and it was really doing it for Ryan. Ryan almost laughed as he realized he was wearing paint on his hair and face like the Joker. Harley Quinn and the Joker, Golden Boy and the Vagabond. _Twisted, dark, and a little evil. Dangerous._

_“Bill~yyyy!”_ Gavin sang through the door as he knocked on it, “Open up, buddy!”

There was some shuffling and the door opened a crack. Billy looked between them.

“You, uh, you guys looking for Batman?” He muttered.

Ryan just barely managed to suppress a snort.

“Nope, we’re looking for a no-good wanker,” Gavin replied cheerfully, “Someone who apparently has no sense of loyalty.”

Billy went to close the door, but Gavin blocked it with his bare foot.

“I suggest you make a decision,” he spoke quietly, “You can fight me and the Vagabond or try to run and die horrifically as we torture the answers we need out of you.”

Billy swallowed nervously.

“Or you can be a good little peasant,” Gavin continued, “And tell your prince what he wants to know. Then live until you piss off someone less kind.”

“O-okay,” Billy hastily agreed, “I-I’ll tell you what you w-want to know.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Gavin chirped.

A half hour later, as they were leaving, Gavin grinned at him.

“Hey, follow me, okay?” He suggested brightly.

Ryan nodded. He really hoped this was going where he wanted it to. Gavin led him to an apartment, which certainly seemed to suggest it was, but then Ryan recognized the apartment. It was Michael’s. 

“Michael’s probably mad we’re late,” Gavin joked in a whisper, “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay here, but I told him I’d try to get you to at least watch.”

_Watch?_ Ryan’s brain sluggishly started to catch up. _We’re in front of his window. We’re breaking in?_ Right, Michael was into rape play. _Do he and Gavin do this regularly?_ Gavin pulled out a latch knife and Ryan noticed the scratches on the window from previous breaches. Well, that answered that question. 

“Okay, you in or what?” Gavin asked as he got the window unlocked.

Ryan nodded. Gavin grinned. He pulled out a coin and held it up.

“Tails I get his ass, heads you do, okay?” He explained.

Ryan nodded again. _This is so fucked up!_ Gavin flipped the coin and smacked it down over the back of his hand. He moved his hand out of the way and tilted into the moonlight. _Heads._ Gavin harrumphed, but shrugged. 

“He’s good either way,” he muttered, “Beginners luck.”

Ryan patted his head and he blushed. 

“Anyway, no actual restraints,” he informed him, “Only physical pins so he knows he can get free. He’ll hold up a peace sign if he needs to stop.”

He demonstrated with his own hand.

“And he always gets himself off,” he added, “Don’t touch his dick. That’s all. Ready?”

Ryan nodded and Gavin pushed open the window. He climbed in and gestured Ryan to follow. After Ryan was in too, he closed the window and locked it. Ryan glanced around the place as they crept down the hallway. Gavin had Ryan stand to the side as he pushed open the bedroom door.

“You’re late!” Michael accused.

“Had to train the new guy,” Gavin laughed, pushing the door fully open.

Ryan leaned against one side of the doorframe as Gavin leaned on the other. It was easy to see that Michael was excited to see him with the skimpy dressing gown. His eyes darted between the two of them before his body darted for his bedroom window. Gavin, apparently used to this, was on him as his fingertips brushed the lock, yanking him backwards. 

“Tsk, you know you can’t run from me, love,” He cooed in his ear, “Especially not since Vagabond’s here. He could put you over his shoulder you know.”

Michael groaned, knees wobbling. Ryan came forward and gripped his arm. Michael resisted, but not nearly hard enough to get away. Gavin took his other bicep and they yanked him over to his bed, hoisting him up and tossing him on top of it. He started to crawl away, but Ryan gripped his thigh tightly to keep him in place. 

“Whoa, big hands, V,” Gavin commented lightly, “You should give him a nice big handprint as a souvenir.”

He reached forward and flipped the dressing gown up out of the way. 

“N-no, wa-wait!” Michael cried.

_ Smack! _

Michael jolted as Gavin smacked his ass.

“No one asked you, slut,” he growled, “Well then, go on.”

Ryan’s smack practically echoed in the room and Michael cried out before moaning loudly and dipping his back to push his ass out to be hit again. Ryan jolted as he felt the hit on his own ass. _I’m about to cum in my pants like a fucking teenager._

“F-fuck,” Gavin whispered, wobbling a bit, “W-wait a sec.”

_What? What happened?_ Ryan took his hand off Michael to turn to Gavin. He brushed his hand through his hair, cupping his face. _What is it?_ Michael sat up and turned to Gavin too.

“Too much?” He mumbled, squeezing his hand, “We need to tone it down?”

He doesn’t want to see Michael get seriously hurt? _I did hit him pretty hard..._

“Sh-should’ve expected this much from th-the Vagabond,” Gavin laughed shakily, “Are you alright still? That really hurt.”

Ryan made a confused grunt, hoping they would tell him what the fuck was happening.

“Oh, right,” Michael grunted, “Forgot you didn’t know. Gavin and I are soulmates. He struggles to stay in dom mind when he gets hurt. ‘Cause he’s such a greedy little sub.”

Michael grabbed his ass roughly and laughed as Gavin went red and sputtered. He shoved at Michael’s arm and huffed.

“I-I’m usually just fine!” He snapped, “It’s not my fault he’s like that!”

Suddenly a very bad idea formed in Ryan’s head. His hands went to Gavin’s tiny shorts and started tugging them down.

“Wh-what’re you-?” Gavin squeaked.

Ryan got them down and took the tights with them before pushing Gavin, bending him over the bed. Michael gave a little gasp and quickly rolled over, putting himself next to Gavin and hiking up his dressing gown. He was clearly _very_ happy with this new direction. 

This time when he smacked Michael’s ass, he also smacked Gavin’s. He bit his lip as the blows landed on his own ass. They both moaned and pushed out their asses. _Fuck, I need two dicks. Where’s Jeremy when you need him??_ He wondered briefly if Jeremy was linked to them as well. 

He groaned breathlessly. _I’m gonna have to get really good at multitasking._ He smacked their asses, alternating sides until his own thighs shook too much from the burning pain in his ass. He pulled lube from his jacket.

_Alright, let’s see if I can do this._ He rubbed it between his fingers and thumbs on both hands before rubbing it over their assholes. Michael pushed back eagerly while Gavin sighed contently. _Come on, old man, keep up with the young ones,_ Ryan thought bitterly at himself. He pushed a finger slowly inside both of them, hissing a bit at the slight stinging. Michael impatiently rocked backwards, shoving him in faster and Gavin whined miserably.

“Micool!” He cried, “That hurts!”

_Oh god._ Ryan couldn’t breathe. 

“Baby!” Michael hissed at him, “You usually take it so good. Too embarrassed to have an audience?”

Gavin made a squeaking noise and buried his face in Michael’s sheets.

“N-no!” He sputtered, muffled.

Ryan thought he was going to die. Gavin was being shy, Michael was being a slut, and Ryan could feel the slight burn in his ass from fingering them. He pushed in a second finger and his own moan was drowned out by theirs. _Thank Christ._

He fucked his fingers into them, grateful they couldn’t see he was also pushing out his ass. _Is this why I need three? Oh god, I’m losing my mind. I’m a sex maniac now. I wasn’t before I met them, I swear!_ He watched them both reach for their cocks with one hand and each other with the other. Their hands clasped together so tightly he actually felt that too. 

As it stopped burning as much, he pushed a third finger inside them his knees dipping for a moment. He really wished he could physically feel the fullness inside him. He thrusted more firmly, rubbing roughly over their prostates. He definitely wouldn’t feel that, but the way they writhed and moaned and fucked themselves back on his hands had him throbbing in his pants. _So eager and slutty._

Gavin came first, crying out and squeezing Michael’s hand even tighter while his ass squeezed around Ryan’s. Ryan wished that had happened on his cock. He really did need two. Michael took longer, grunting in frustration.

“A-angle down a b-bit,” he muttered, “H-harder!”

Ryan gently pulled his hands back and pulled off one of his gloves to open his pants and get his cock out. He swiped not nearly enough lube on himself and used his gloved hand to guide his cock inside him. Michael gasped and moaned, pushing himself off the bed and Ryan nearly came as he felt his own cock fucking into him. _Oh fuck. How did I ever have good sex before this?_ Gavin whined next to them.

“N-no fair! I already came!” He huffed.

“You’re just jealous,” Michael groaned.

Ryan pulled off his other glove to grip one of Michael’s hips and the other gripped his hair.

“Shut it,” He growled.

“Y-Yes, sir,” Michael panted.

Ryan gripped the back of his neck and pressed his face into the bed. He glanced at their joined hands, suddenly focusing on them. His chest ached. His hand moved off Michael’s hip and reached out. He saw the black stains on his fingers and hesitated. _Right._ The Vagabond would never hold hands with anyone. He put his hand back on Michael’s hip and squeezed his eyes closed. _Just fuck, don’t think about it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone tell me how to write happy stories. XD
> 
> @1stworldmutant to hear about why I’m so damn sad.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood/cutting, kidnapping, abuse, PTSD, DID mention

Ryan sighed tiredly, pulling the Vagabond face off and dropping it on the edge of the sink. The gloves dropped on the other side. He pulled his belongings from the jacket, dumping them across the vanity. He frowned as he pulled out a coin.

_Quarter?_ He held it up to the light. _Ten pence._ He flipped it. _Elizabeth II._ It was a British coin. He laid it on the back of his hand. It was the coin Gavin had flipped for Michael’s ass. He laughed. Did Michael pass it to him or had Gavin slipped it to him? He pulled his wallet and placed it carefully in one of the secret folds to keep it safe.

He put the jacket over the closed toilet seat and pulled his shirt over his head before starting to clean the paint from his eyes. He missed washing at the apartment. It felt safer there. Maybe it was good he was moving. It didn’t pay to get comfortable. Rubbed the towel across his face to wipe at the paint. _Maybe I should give up on the paint, it’s so much work. No. There’s an image that must be maintained now._ He would be better off ordering some special paint that would wash off easier.

_Bzz bzz!_

Ryan frowned into the towel. Who was texting him? He was not unto doing a job, he wanted to clean and nap without the Vagabond face. He couldn’t relax fully at Michael’s place afterwards. He shuddered. 

Damn, that had been pretty amazing. His little sad moment had been completely forgotten when he had the most mind-blowing orgasm he’d ever experienced. Was it egotistical that he came half from getting roughly fucked by himself? His dick perked up, recalling that it had been the most active member in that experience. _Fuck off, you! You’ve caused me enough trouble!_

He sighed and wiped his eyes enough to see. He pulled out his phone to angrily tell someone he didn’t need their shit when he was feeling decent for once. He frowned at the unknown number.

Unknown: _If a mask protects your identity, does it protect your self?_

Ryan saved Gavin’s number, smiling softly. Was he still thinking about the Vagabond even hours later?

To Harley: _It’s good I don’t get around much or that message would’ve freaked me out._

Harley: _I aim to freak people out._

Ryan snorted, rolling his eyes.

To Harley: _Well, it probably would’ve worked on less of a freak._

He paused a moment before messaging again, glancing at Vagabond’s mask on the sink.

To Harley: _And no, a mask can’t protect your sense of self, but it can certainly destroy it._

~

Jeremy was slumped over his railing when Ryan got back. He looked miserable and his ashtray was full. He brightened a bit as Ryan hopped up, but it was gone nearly as quick as it had come. Ryan didn’t hesitate this time to hop on the corner of his railing.

“What’s wrong?” He called quietly.

Jeremy barked out a sharp, bitter laugh. He stood up straight, stretching his back. He walked to the corner of his railing and hopped up. He kicked Ryan’s shoe absently. Ryan leaned forward and squeezed his knee. Jeremy gave him a sad smile.

“Do you ever have to do something that you don’t want to do?” He muttered, “You don’t have a choice, you have to do it, but you really, really don’t want to. I mean, you _really_ have to and you _really_ hate it. Not like it’s taxes or chores. Like...like you have to let someone on life support die or you get painful surgery to live.”

“Yes,” Ryan answered curtly.

Forced to do things you hate. Yes, Ryan was very familiar with that. Jeremy took a shaky breath.

“I’m being...I have to do something,” he mumbled, voice strained, “An-and...I could die. Others will definitely die...But there’s no way out of it.”

Ryan’s heart pounded in his chest. _No, you can’t die. I haven’t gotten to know you yet. I’m not ready to lose you before I even get you._

“Are you sure?” He pressed, “Maybe I can help you.”

“No, I’m trapped,” Jeremy dismissed, “It’s...do you know anything about the Vagabond?”

“You mean LS’ most wanted?” Ryan answered dryly, “Yeah, I may have heard of him.”

Jeremy chuckled lightly.

“It’s just, the others think we can use this plan to get to him,” he explained, “But I’m sure it’s just going to get us all killed. Well, most of us.”

His eyes went a bit unfocused.

“He, uh...might just torture some of us,” he mumbled, “Or worse yet, he may not hurt me at all.”

Ryan frowned. 

“You’re afraid of _not_ getting hurt?” He questioned, confused.

“Not exactly, it’s...complicated,” Jeremy muttered, looking away, “I can’t explain it. Even I don’t understand it.”

_That makes two of us._

He wanted to reassure Jeremy that he’d never hurt him, but he was Ryan, not Vagabond. And it would be a lie. Ryan was sure to hurt him eventually.

~

“-Jeremy Dooley.”

Ryan’s head snapped up and he rushed from the kitchen to the living room. He turned up the volume on the news.

“-while working on a case related to the Vagabond with several other officers and detectives. They were responding to an emergency call and Dooley was left at the scene as there was no believed danger. The current main suspect of the kidnapping is the Vagabond, thought to have returned to the scene. None of th-“

Ryan’s fist interrupted the reporter as it crashed through the screen. He recognized the scene as one he’d left not too long ago. _Those fuckers left him at a hot scene by himself?! Dumbasses!_ He’d been so fucking worried about this plan they were working on, so it must be at least _suspected_ that the Vagabond might attack a lone officer. 

And thanks to the security coverage of the bank FH tried to blow up and the group of officers he’d carried Michael through, there were rumors all over that the Vagabond liked cute young boys. Rumors that made Ryan puke, but rumors with an unfortunate amount of evidence. Jeremy was a perfect target and they didn’t even leave his partner with him. _He does have a partner, doesn’t he?_

Ryan thought back to the fire. There’d been an uneven number of pigs on the inside. Wouldn’t they also mention his partner on the news? Well, Ryan had destroyed it early. They could’ve mentioned one after he punched a hole through it. _Why do they hate him so much? Why does he work there when they hate him that much?_

_I’m trapped._

There was something wrong happening to Jeremy and Ryan was not surprised in the least to find that pigs were behind it. What were they doing? Ryan’s own trauma screamed that they were abusing him. Two cops in a shitty apartment had helped Ryan eventually turn into the Vagabond, what could a whole station full of them do to Jeremy?

Ryan stood suddenly and started getting out the pieces of the Vagabond. They really did offer him up to be kidnapped, didn’t they? That must’ve been the plan all along. They used Jeremy as bait. Possibly the plan was to repeat the process until the Vagabond actually went back to a scene or maybe they had assumed he always watched the scene afterwards. Regardless, the plan had _technically_ worked, but with one fatal flaw: Jeremy wasn’t kidnapped by the Vagabond.

~

Amateurs always take kidnap victims to the docks. There’s somewhat decent reasoning behind it. The docks are filled with warehouses that are easy to get in and sometimes go days without being checked. And in LS, if someone goes to their warehouse to find it broken into, they care only if there’s anything stolen. 

The downsides to the docks though are numerous. 

_1\. They’re the first place someone would look._

Ryan parked his bike near the most recently broken into warehouse.

_2\. No sound proofing._

“Why do we have guard duty for Dooley?” Someone grunted on the other side of the metal wall.

_3\. Easy to breach._

Ryan slipped through the window onto the rafters.

_4\. Too many dark corners for someone to hide in._

He crept through the place, nearing the center where Jeremy was tied up.

_5\. It’s nearly impossible to hold a private conversation in one._

“You’re making a mistake,” Jeremy whispered, his voice carrying across the open space.

“What, you think he won’t come?” Someone laughed cruelly.

“He will,” Jeremy answered, “And he will kill you.”

“Dooley, I think that’s a little arrogant of you,” someone else scoffed.

“Not over me, you fucking idiots!” Jeremy snapped, “He _hates_ cops!”

The Vagabond _did_ kill them. All of them. Except one. But it _wasn’t_ because they were pigs. It was because they’d tried to trick Vagabond by mistreating Jeremy. For once, when Ryan sliced through the pigs, he wasn’t thinking of his own trauma. All he could think of was Jeremy.

He knelt in front of him after the last of them fell and began to cut him free of the bindings. As soon as his first hand was freed, he quite suddenly grabbed the Vagabond’s right hand. The one he’d punched the tv with. The Vagabond didn’t wince, but Jeremy did.

“I-I knew it!” He exclaimed, “I knew it was you! The desk, I could feel you watching me! Then you came back to save me! And when you choked me, I could see it affecting you! I knew it wasn’t just some fetish for young boys!”

The Vagabond pressed the tip of his knife under Jeremy’s chin. Jeremy had become a liability. He knew too much. It would be easy. One hand free wouldn’t nearly be enough to fight the Vagabond. But Jeremy had other plans.

He seized the blade of the knife and pressed it more firmly into his chin. Vagabond couldn’t process what the fuck was happening. His left hand throbbed with pain as warm blood spilled over his right. 

“Ooo, too bad for you soulmate,” Jeremy sneered, “Bet you didn’t expect _me_ to be the fucking psycho. I get off on thinking about you killing me. Leaving my balcony door open for you, letting you come in and slit my throat. I think about every detail, every pain, every possibility. I even plan out how to ensure my DID neighbor would take care of my cat. I’ve thought about so much I’m not even sure I _am_ still alive any more.”

_Dissociative Identity Disorder. He knows James and Ryan are the same person. Why is **that** what I’m focused on??_ Jeremy pushed his chin into the knife and squeezed tighter. Ryan stared at him in shock and confusion. 

“Do you think I have shit to live for?” He whispered, eyes wide, “All I have is pain and suffering. So fuck me, slice me up, beat me, kill me. I don’t care, just don’t send me back.”

_“Don’t send me back!” James’ terrified voice cried in Ryan’s mind, “Please! Please, don’t send me back!”_

Ryan flinched as he saw his own hollow eyes reflected back at him. Where did Jeremy go? Where was the guy who laughed at him? The one who kissed him? The one who cared about some guy he just met? The one Ryan saw? _Everyone in Los Santos wears a mask._ Ryan pulled the knife from Jeremy’s hand and finished freeing him. He cuffed their right hands together.

_6\. They’re easy to escape from._

Ryan led Jeremy to his bike and he got on behind him with no resistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the erratic posting. I’ve been so out of it. DX
> 
> Follow me @1stworldmutant to get updates about how depressed I am.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: physical abuse, past physical abuse, PTSD

Ryan locked the door of the hotel room and dragged Jeremy along with him as he double checked the windows. Then he took the cuffs off them and sat him down on the closed lid of the toilet. He held his injured left hand over the sink and washed the drying blood from it.

_I’ve kidnapped him. This is kidnapping. I’ve taken him against his will._ He glanced at where Jeremy was staring off into space. Technically, he said he didn’t want to go back to the pigs, but he hadn’t said he wanted to go with Ryan either. Jeremy noticed his staring and turned to look at him.

“I suppose you want me to say thank you,” he mumbled, voice hollow.

Ryan shook his head. _Why would I want you to thank me for kidnapping you?_

“So you gonna do anything to me?” Jeremy asked, sounding almost bored, “I’d sort of assumed I was going to get hurt somehow.”

Ryan shook his head again. _Oh, Jeremy, you’re as much of a mess as I am._ He looked back to his hand. _He needs stitches._ Ryan took the first aid kid and popped it open. 

“I guess I should rephrase,” Jeremy sighed, “I _want_ you to hurt me.”

_I’m so shocked,_ Ryan thought sarcastically. He held his hand flat against the vanity as he started the stitches. Jeremy hissed.

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” he grunted, “I was thinking more you cutting me than fixing my cuts.”

Ryan snorted. 

“Do you fuck with the mask on?” Jeremy ground out through his teeth.

Ryan rolled his eyes. _Kid, at least **try** to be subtle. _

“I-I’m gonna keep it real,” Jeremy huffed, “I’m sort of freaking out. Th-that break down...I-I’ve never done that b-before. I-I mean, not towards s-someone.”

_Hm._ Ryan finished the stitches and wiped up the blood from the minor cuts before swiping antibiotic on all of it. As he started wrapping up his hand, Jeremy started crying. 

“I-I don’t actually want to die,” he confessed, voice thick with tears, “I-I just don’t want to-to go back! I-I’m so tired! I c-can’t take it any more!”

Ryan finished taping the bandage and seized Jeremy in a tight hug. _You never, **ever** have to go back! _Jeremy gripped the back of his jacket tightly and sobbed into his shoulder. 

_“Don’t send me back!” James’ terrified voice cried, “Please! Please, don’t send me back!”_

_“James, there’s nothing we can do,” the officer spoke quietly, “I’m...I’m sorry. We just can’t do anything.”_

_James’ cries fell on deaf ears. This was the moment James finally broke. He swung. He smashed his fist into the officer’s face until he was tased. When they cuffed him, he fought. They tased him again. It took five officers to take him down. He was never, **ever** going to go back. _

Jeremy didn’t let go of him until he finally passed out from exhaustion. Ryan carried him to the bed, hesitating before taking his shoes and belt off. Jeremy suddenly woke up as he started to turn and leave. He grabbed his sleeve tightly.

“Y-you’re coming back, r-right?” He whimpered, eyes wide and teary.

Ryan caressed his cheek and nodded. Jeremy relaxed significantly and let go, falling back asleep. Ryan struggled. He wanted to stay. But he had a job and he was going to need supplies anyway. He looked at where Jeremy’s hand was curled into a fist against the bed. He reached. _It’s okay if no one sees, right?_

His hand hovered above Jeremy’s. Then Jeremy moved, shifting a bit. Ryan actually jumped, startled and quickly shook himself. _Idiot! You’re going to ruin everything with these feelings! You should really slit his throat and be done with it._

He stared down at his hands. _Ruin everything. What is “everything”? Do I really have anything worth protecting?_ His hands squeezed into fists and looked back at Jeremy’s sleeping face. Maybe not something, but definitely some _one_.

~

“V! Heya!” Gavin called as he rushed towards him.

Ryan grunted tiredly as Gavin squeezed him around the middle. He patted his head absently. He was so tired. And worried. The job would take at least two hours. Then he needed to check on the cat. He’d already spent a couple hours gathering supplies. 

After he checked the cat, he’d need to see Jeremy, give him the supplies, make sure he was alright. Well, the equivalent for someone in such a shitty situation. Alive, he supposed. That was all he could ask for. After that he’d be able to sleep. Maybe.

“This is nice, V,” Gavin squeaked, “But, um, we have to go.”

Ryan frowned down at him. _What?_ He spotted his hand running through Gavin’s hair. Petting him. He was petting him without thinking. Gavin smiled softly at him.

“It really is nice,” he assured him, “Just maybe later, okay?”

_Right._ Ryan pulled his hand away and Gavin detangled himself.

“Okay, BrownMan is already set up,” he started, all business, “And Mogar is at the ready. So take your earpiece and let’s hop to it.”

Vagabond took the earpiece as ordered and got on the bike. Gavin put in his own earpiece and pulled his golden helmet on his head. He hopped on his own bike and revved the engine.

“Alright, boys!” He called cheerfully, “Let’s play!”

Vagabond revved his own engine before they zipped forward, tires screeching as they turned sharply out of the alleyway in opposite directions.

~

Searing pain ripped through Ryan’s leg. Who got hit? He glanced down, trying to subtly check if it was him. There was a wet hole in his jeans. Yes, it was him. Good thing his jeans were dark enough it would be hard for them to notice. He just needed to pretend he wasn’t hit. Who the hell hit him anyway? 

He squinted at the few cops firing at them, trying to stop them from leaving with the jewel. No, the angle was wrong. Someone else. It was angled downward. So it had to be someone above him. He looked up in the direction of where they’d be, but then Gold’s bike screamed around the corner. 

The Vagabond held his hand out for the jewel as Gold flew by. Once they handed off, Vagabond zoomed forward, out of cover. He drifted around the corner as the pigs scrambled to follow him. He weaved in and out of streets and alleyways, the squad cars sticking close to him like flies on a corpse. 

Mogar seemed to suddenly appear in front of him, holding out his hand for the pass. They handed off and the pigs corrected course to follow Mogar. The Vagabond turned, rocketing off towards where he needed to meet up with BrownMan. He barely had to stop before BrownMan was on his bike hissing at him to go. He held Vagabond’s belt tightly with one hand while the other gripped an AK. 

Once they were sure they weren’t being followed, they looked back to the museum and Vagabond parked out back. They hopped off quickly and Vagabond climbed the rope while BrownMan kept watch. As he slipped through the window, he wobbled, unsteady. Suddenly he felt very tired.

Why was the room spinning? He stumbled to the safe, leaning against it a moment to steady himself. He felt cold and sweaty. He looked down at his leg, suddenly realizing his whole pant leg felt wet. He touched the wound gently. It wasn’t that bad. He felt the back of his leg. _Ah. Exit wound. Shit._

Ryan quickly got his lock picks out. He needed to hurry up before he passed out from blood loss. And he needed to be careful not to let the others know. He’d take BrownMan to the drop off and leave immediately, that was his best bet. He could always get his pay later. Or not at all if it came to it. It was more important that no one found out he was connected to Gavin and Michael. 

~

It was nothing short of a miracle that he got to the hotel in one piece. He locked the door and turned around to nearly jump out of his skin at the sight of Jeremy sitting up in the bed. Right, three was there. He didn’t have time. He was losing all his blood.

He hobbled to the bathroom and sat heavily on the lid of the toilet. He tugged at his boots weakly. _Fucking tight laces. Why do I make everything so difficult for myself??_

“Ahem.”

Ryan jumped, startled by Jeremy clearing his throat. Ryan was too tired. He snapped his fingers and gestured Jeremy over. He hesitated before scurrying towards him. Ryan pointed at his untied boot. Jeremy dropped down and started loosening the laces to get it off, then got the other one off. 

He leaned back as Ryan stood shakily to get his pants off. As Ryan struggled with that too, he reached up to help, pulling open his belt and getting them wiggled down off his hips. Ryan sat back down after they got the jeans off his ass and Jeremy carefully pulled them off a leg at a time. They both hissed as it peeled off the wounds. 

“Take your jacket off too,” Jeremy ordered, “You’ll feel better that way.”

Ryan sluggishly obeyed as Jeremy grabbed a wet cloth to clean him up and then the first aid kit. Ryan was not that confident in a pig’s ability to stitch him up, but Jeremy was surprisingly good at it. Though he grumbled and muttered under his breath the whole time about Ryan being a bastard. 

After he was done, he gave Ryan pain medicine and led him to the bed. He pushed him down onto it firmly and Ryan protested. _No, I can’t sleep here._ Jeremy squeezed his hand.

“I promise I won’t touch the mask, okay?” He assured him, “I know it sounds stupid, but you can trust me.”

Ryan stared at him, suddenly feeling so weak and desperate and tired. _Trust._ He laid back, settling against the pillow and sighed. Maybe...just this once he could trust someone. His eyelids drooped and he fell asleep.

~

When Ryan woke up with someone’s arms around him, he panicked and nearly broke their nose with his elbow. His own nose flared in pain. _Shit._

“Alright, alright, I’m awake,” Jeremy grumbled thickly, his hands over his nose, “Worst wake up call ever!”

Ryan snorted, shaking his head. The shaking made him a bit dizzy and he remembered the bullet, Jeremy helping him, and his decision to trust him. He froze as Jeremy shifted and rolled off the bed. _Trust._ _I trusted him not to take the mask off._ He touched his face to find it still there. _I trusted him and nothing bad happened._ He winced as Jeremy apparently touched his nose to check if it was broken. 

_Nothing bad happened to **me** anyway._ He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and slumped over. He sat there, just staring at his still gloved hands. The abused becomes the abuser. Jeremy shuffled around for a second before he stood in front of Ryan. 

Ryan looked up as he started taking his clothes off. _I’m injured, what are you doing?_ After he was down to his underwear, he sighed, fists clenched at his sides. Purple and yellow was splotched across his skin like the most painful Jackson Pollock. Ryan reached out and brushed his fingers over the marred skin. All around and stretched over the bruises there were white and pink scars. 

Ryan suddenly realized something: the beatings had slowed down after Gavin had learned to knife fight, but they were still frequent. Mostly during the day. Monday through Friday. _I should’ve noticed earlier. I should’ve realized sooner what they were doing._ He reached over and grabbed the notepad from the nightstand.

Tell me their names, he wrote.

“Why?” Jeremy asked, frowning.

So I can kill them, he scribbled down. He’d thought that was pretty obvious.

Jeremy sighed and sat on the bed next to him.

“I...I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he mumbled, “I think maybe I’m just going to leave town. I thought about it while you were gone. I can just get some crappy job in Venturas and try to move on.”

_No! You can’t leave!_ Ryan didn’t want to lose him. But he didn’t want to force him to live in the city with his abusers. Didn’t want to force him to be with Ryan if he didn’t want to. Ryan’s jaw clenched and he wrote down another message.

Alright, I’ll help you move, but you should go to Ro instead. I’ll lend you the money for a down payment.

Jeremy opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but it dropped into a smile.

“Thank you,” He spoke quietly through tears, “You’ve don’t a lot to help me and haven’t asked for anything in return. You’re...not what I thought you were...And you don’t have Dissociative Identity Disorder, do you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, boy. What a rough chapter. ^_^’
> 
> Follow me @1stworldmutant to send me cat pics. I need to be healed. DX


	8. Chapter 8

Ryan sat in stunned silence so long he almost convinced himself Jeremy hadn’t said it. _DID, Dissociative Identity Disorder._ He knew that James, Ryan, and the Vagabond were all housed in one body.

“H-how?” He choked.

“Well, when we first met,” Jeremy answered, “James felt when I got bit by Scooter. Then I was pretty sure Vagabond was my soulmate. I thought maybe you could have more than one, but with your size and I mean, you were wearing contacts and paint, so I knew you were trying to conceal any notable things about yourself. Like beautiful periwinkle eyes and pretty chestnut hair.”

Ryan blushed despite the situation. _He thinks my eyes are beautiful?_

“Then Ryan was obviously James,” Jeremy went on, “This was confirmed when Scooter reacted to you positively. You’re the only one he actually likes.”

Ryan laughed, dropping his head into his hands. _The fucking cat betrayed me. I’m gonna kick his scrawny ass._

“So...is it Ryan?” Jeremy mumbled, “You responded very positively to that name.”

Ryan pulled the Vagabond face off and stared down at it in his hands.

“Not even I know any more,” he muttered, “Maybe I never knew.”

Jeremy slid closer to him and tugged the mask from his hands. He dropped it on the nightstand. Then he slipped onto Ryan’s lap. Ryan hesitated. He was half Vagabond, half Ryan. No Vagabond face, but the paint and eyes were in place. Anxiety twisted in his guts. Make that a third Vagabond, a third Ryan, and a third James. Jeremy scooted closer, putting his arms around his shoulders. 

“Well, can I just call you love, then?” He whispered, searching Ryan’s eyes.

Ryan’s heart was beating quickly and pounding against his chest like it was a hummingbird trying to get out of a cage. He carefully put his hands on Jeremy’s hips and nodded. Jeremy smiled fondly as he leaned in to kiss him. Ryan pressed back gently. 

Ryan didn’t want to press him too hard, though not because he was afraid of Jeremy breaking. Ryan was afraid he, himself might shatter completely. He was terrified that now that Jeremy had melded the three faces, he’d be so much easier to destroy. After all, one heart was easier to stab than three.

~

Ryan frowned at Jeremy’s open balcony door.

“Merrow!”

He glanced over at his own balcony where the cat was looking quite agitated. He hopped over and crouched down. Well, the cat seemed fine other than its mood. Tail flicking back and forth, meowing urgently. Was he hungry? Ryan carefully scooped him up and hopped back to Jeremy’s balcony. The cat meowed and hissed as they approached the door. _Not hungry. Scared, defensive._ Someone had been in Jeremy’s apartment. 

“You can stay here,” Ryan assured him, setting him on the railing, “I’ll go check it out, okay?”

“Meow!” 

Ryan smiled fondly and pet his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he assured him.

The cat relaxed a bit, pushing his head into Ryan’s hand.

“Also, just so you know,” Ryan added, “You’re the worst. You ratted me out.”

Of course the the cat didn’t give a fuck. Ryan rolled his eyes and turned back to Jeremy’s apartment. He pulled his gun and stepped through the door. It was hard to see in the dark. He clicked on his flashlight and swept over the living room. Everything was in disarray. 

Technically he didn’t know what array was for Jeremy’s apartment, but he had a feeling the couch being ripped to shreds wasn’t normal. Nor the upended coffee table or the destroyed game consoles under the tipped over tv. Not burglary then. Someone was looking for something specific.

Ryan didn’t know what it was, but he got the feeling it had something to do with the bruises all over Jeremy’s body. _Proof of the abuse, maybe?_

He swept the place quickly and carefully, making sure no one was still inside. It was completely wrecked, even the vent covers were torn off. Someone obviously believed he was hiding something important. What the hell that was, Ryan didn’t know, but what he did know was that they didn’t find it. The place had been trashed, then ran over a second time, with no place that wasn’t searched. There were a few holes in the drywall too, certainly indicating someone was pissed off. 

But why did it matter so much? If the Vagabond had Jeremy, a pig, then he would never be able to expose anything. The Vagabond didn’t show mercy to pigs. Even if he did supposedly like young boys. Ryan’s stomach churned. _Urg._ A borderline pedophile is what they thought he was. He shook his head, going back to the balcony.

“It’s safe now,” he assured the cat, scratching his head, “You can go back in.”

The cat leapt at him and he almost slapped it out of the air on instinct, but managed to refrain from killing it. He landed on Ryan’s shoulder, claws sinking into the thick leather jacket he was wearing. He snuggled up to his neck, crying pathetically. 

_“Don’t send me back!”_

Ryan ran his hand over the cat’s fur.

“It’s okay,” he assured him, “You don’t have to go back.”

~

Jeremy was sleeping when Ryan got back. Even asleep he looked exhausted as hell. Ryan carefully laid the cat next to him before carrying in the rest of the supplies. He hoped the cat would be alright in such a small place while they set up a place for Jeremy in San Fierro.

Ryan _really_ didn’t want him to go, but honestly, after seeing his apartment, he thought this was the safest route. He considered suggesting he go even further. He was really worried about him getting hurt. But he also didn’t want him to go even further away. At least in Ro, Ryan might actually be able to visit him. He wasn’t going to, but the idea that he _could_ was comforting. 

“Why is my cat here?” Jeremy mumbled sleepily.

“Your place got trashed,” Ryan answered, not looking up from where he was placing things in the nightstand, “Utterly destroyed. Someone was looking for something.”

“Oh.”

Ryan paused, looking over at him. His eyes were wide and he was staring into nothingness. He knew exactly what they were looking for. Ryan frowned. _What in the world did you get yourself into?_

“We should take him to a vet,” Jeremy muttered, still staring, “They might’ve hurt him.”

His wide-eyed, hollow-voiced look was starting to freak Ryan out. He made him think of the Vagabond, weirdly enough. He didn’t know what to do in this situation. How do you comfort someone who looks like an empty shell? How do you comfort someone at all? Ryan really only knew one way. 

Jeremy blinked at Ryan in surprise as he rubbed his hand through his hair. It seemed to have worked, Jeremy’s hollow face twisting into a confused one. Ryan didn’t know if it was right though. It worked on Gavin to some degree. And the cat.

“What are you doing?” Jeremy asked bluntly.

_Trying to help,_ Ryan didn’t say. He pulled his hand back and went back to dumping things in the drawer. Mostly pain medicine. Speaking of, he could use some. The previous ones were wearing off, his leg was slowly starting to hurt again. He didn’t want Jeremy to feel any more pain. Or Michael and Gavin for that matter, but he was rather focused on Jeremy for the time being. 

He felt a twinge of guilt. He felt like he was playing favorites. That wasn’t the case, it was just that Jeremy needed him right now. He hoped they’d never all need him at once. He wasn’t that good at multitasking.

“Will you lay with me?” Jeremy spoke quietly, “I’m scared and lonely.”

Ryan’s heart melted and he nodded. He pulled his shoes off and wiggled out of his jeans with a hiss. He dropped his jacket too and carefully crawled up behind Jeremy. He was actually pretty tired himself. It was okay to sleep with Jeremy. He’d proven he wasn’t going to hurt him in his sleep anyway. He carefully pulled Jeremy into his chest and buried his nose in his hair. 

He suddenly felt tonnes of pressure release from his muscles and he relaxed against Jeremy’s body. It was better, he realized, to have Jeremy know the truth about him. _Easier._ Despite fear that he’d be hurt, it was still relaxing to know he didn’t have to _be_ someone. He could just exist with Jeremy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the cat lives. For now. :D
> 
> @1stworldmutant for just me.


	9. Chapter 9

Harley: _Your ID is ready._

Ryan frowned at the message. In the craziness with Jeremy, he’d completely forgotten he’d commissioned Gavin to make him ID. It’d taken longer than he said, more than a week, he thought. Why had it taken so long? Maybe the jewel heist had disrupted plans. That had been a few days ago, Ryan was pretty sure. It was hard to comprehend time when he spent most of it sleeping next to Jeremy.

He sighed heavily and sat up from the bed. Jeremy stirred behind him. If he wasn’t going to move, he didn’t really _need_ the ID any more. Well, it was good to have it anyway. He hadn’t gotten a fresh one in awhile. And he’d already paid half. 

“Where are you going, love?” Jeremy mumbled, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s waist.

Ryan hummed, an idea suddenly popping in his head.

To Harley: _Do you think you could make another batch for my friend?_

“Love?” Jeremy repeated.

Harley: _Sure, bring them by in a couple hours._

“I’m arranging to have fake ID made for you,” Ryan finally answered.

“Oh, is that necessary?” Jeremy asked, rubbing his face against Ryan’s shoulder blade.

“Maybe not,” Ryan admitted, “But you’ll be safer.”

“Okay, I trust you,” Jeremy mumbled, “Do we have to go now?”

“Couple hours,” Ryan grunted.

“Good.”

Jeremy’s hands rubbed down his torso. Ryan jolted, freezing up as Jeremy pushed a hand inside his boxers. He gripped his wrist.

“J-Jeremy, wh-what are you doing?!” He hissed.

Jeremy’s bandaged hand ran up his shirt and he bit at Ryan’s shoulder.

“Take a wild guess, love,” he muttered.

Ryan moaned as Jeremy’s fingers pinched his nipple. Jeremy echoed the moan.

“Fuck, being connected is certainly gonna take my masochism to a new level,” Jeremy groaned.

His undamaged hand closed around Ryan’s cock. Ryan’s breath started coming out in sharp pants as Jeremy stroked him in his underwear. 

“J-Jeremy,” he breathed, “Pl-please, I...”

“You wanna fuck me?” Jeremy suggested.

Ryan moaned, thrusting up into his hand. 

“Please!”

“Okay, but you have to lay still,” Jeremy ordered, “I’ll be on top. You’re still injured.”

“Y-Yes,” Ryan agreed, breathless, “Wh-whatever you say.”

“That’s a dangerous statement, Love,” Jeremy warned, voice dark.

He shifted, directing Ryan back against the pillows. Ryan gripped his hips, pulling him up to his face to get his cock in his mouth. Jeremy moaned, gripping the headboard as he shallowly thrust over Ryan’s tongue. Ryan’s hand shot out, fumbling with the nightstand to grab the lube he’d placed there. 

“You plan this out, love?” Jeremy muttered as Ryan dripped lube onto his fingers, “Or were you just hoping I’d eventually beg for it?”

Ryan didn’t bother trying to answer as he pushed a finger inside Jeremy’s ass. It was actually neither. The lube was there for jerking off purposes. He’d been doing a lot of that. Being so close to Jeremy so much had been _frustrating_ to say the least. Jeremy laughed.

“No, it’s half empty,” he commented lightly, “You’ve been out here jerking off while I was in the shower, haven’t you?”

Ryan went red, pointedly not looking up at him. Jeremy groaned, thrusting into his face more firmly.

“What a naughty boy,” he huffed, “Come on, faster than that. Get moving or I’ll fuck your face and leave you here to finish yourself.”

Ryan moaned around him, quickly adding another finger. Jeremy rolled against his face, moaning as he fingered him. Ryan’s own cock was throbbing between his thighs, leaking as it ached to be touched. Eventually, as Ryan started to think it was tears of frustration in his eyes instead of tears of getting his throat fucked, Jeremy smacked his hand away and wiggled down his body. 

Ryan squeezed his thighs as he lubed up and sank down on Ryan’s cock. _So warm and tight._ A slight burn twisted up his own ass, but not nearly enough to be of any concern. Ryan watched him slowly sink down, eyes closed tight and lips parted. His heartbeat was kicking up as his eyes traced over Jeremy’s bruises and scars. 

_Pain._ It was what connected them. Not just through the soul bond, but through their experiences. Would Ryan have ever really cared about him if he hadn’t found out he was being abused? What had drawn him to rescuing him in that bank? Only the fact that the other pigs had abandoned him. 

Jeremy’s eyes opened as he pushed flush against Ryan’s pelvis. Two tears burned down his face and Ryan reached up to put his hands on either cheek. Ryan’s own eyes began to sting as he thought of all the pain Jeremy suffered. How much of it he’d ignored because he didn’t want to have a soulmate. His eyes welled up with tears. _No, I can’t. I can’t cry in front of him._ He twisted, flipping them and turned his head away from him. He squeezed his eyes closed as he fucked him. 

“R-uh, Love, you’re f-freaking me out a bit,” Jeremy panted, “A-are you okay?”

_Weak. Pathetic._ Ryan fucked him harder, hoping that would shut him up, hoping that would stop him from pointing out how weak he was. He gripped the headboard tightly. _Don’t think. Don’t think._ His own ass ached from what he was doing to Jeremy’s. _The abused becomes the abuser._ Ryan abruptly stopped, panting as he tried to catch his breath. He was slipping out of him, going soft. 

“Um...is that...m-my fault?” Jeremy squeaked.

“No.”

Ryan pulled away from him, grabbing tissues to wipe up the lube. Jeremy laid still and let Ryan clean him, his face filled with apprehension. Ryan pulled his jeans on and started gather his things.

“Wh-where are you g-going?” Jeremy asked, quietly. 

Ryan looked at him, eyes going to the bruises, he jerked his gaze away.

“Out,” he muttered, “I’ll be back in two hours. Don’t shave.”

“O-okay,” Jeremy murmured, looking down, “I-I’m sorry.”

Ryan sighed, walking back to him and lifting his face to look at him.

“It’s not your fault,” he stated firmly, “I promise, it’s not your fault.”

Jeremy’s eyes filled with tears.

“Th-then t-take me with you,” he pleaded, “D-don’t leave m-me.”

Ryan sighed, leaning forward to kiss him gently. 

“I need to be away from you a bit,” he spoke softly, “Because of me, not you, okay?”

Jeremy pouted and nodded.

“I’ll bring you back some coffee, okay?” Ryan suggested.

Jeremy brightened, nodding enthusiastically. Ryan smiled fondly at him. _So adorable. I think I could fall in love with you._

“Merrow!” 

Ryan looked down at the cat rubbing between his legs.

“The fuck do you want?” He huffed, “Cats aren’t allowed coffee.”

Jeremy laughed as Ryan scooped up the cat and scratched his head.

“I swear this cat thinks he’s mine,” Ryan grumbled.

“Other way, love,” Jeremy joked, “You’re his.”

“Hmph.”

The cat purred as Ryan pet him. He suddenly missed Gavin. He frowned. Why would he miss Gavin? He barely knew him. He sighed and set the cat back down. Jeremy grabbed his sleeve and kissed him on the cheek. Ryan’s face went red and he covered the spot with his hand as he stumbled backwards. Jeremy giggled at him as he crashed into the furniture. It was good he was leaving anyway, because now he was embarrassed as fuck. _He kissed me on the cheek. Like a...a boyfriend!_

~

Jeremy was stuck to him like glue, clearly terrified to not only be leaving the safety of the hotel, but also to be walking into the lion’s den. FAHC was number one on pig radar, other than the Vagabond of course. To just be strolling into the Golden Boy’s studio was no doubt very scary for him. Ryan patted his head.

“Don’t worry,” he muttered, “No one will hurt you here.”

Jeremy relaxed a bit at Ryan’s reassuring smile, but still clutched Ryan’s arm as they walked in. Gavin brightened when he saw Ryan, but his eyes were sharp as they cut to where Jeremy was squeezing him. Jeremy jolted as Gavin’s intense eyes landed on him. Gavin’s eyes trailed down his body and a hungry sort of grin spread across his face.

“Ryan, you never said your _friend_ was so pretty,” Gavin cooed as he stood to make his way over, “Jeremy, wasn’t it?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” Jeremy mumbled.

Ryan did _not_ like Jeremy calling Gavin that. A sharp spike of possessiveness sprang up in him and he almost shoved Jeremy behind him. 

“Well, come with me,” Gavin coaxed, holding out his hand, “We have to take your picture.”

Jeremy looked up at Ryan who nodded encouragingly, though his protective instincts cried out for him to stay attached to Jeremy. Was it Jeremy who’d been clinging or had it really been Ryan? Jeremy took Gavin’s hand and let himself be pulled along. He was focused on Gavin now. Ryan suddenly felt invisible. _Isn’t that how it‘s meant to be? Aren’t I supposed to be invisible? Why do I hate it?_

“There you are,” Gavin directed, “Just stand there and point that pretty face towards me.”

Jeremy was blushing. Ryan felt anxiety grow inside him. _If they decide they like each other...that would mean they won’t need me, right?_ Any crime Jeremy needed done could be done by Gavin. Could be done _better_ by Gavin. And Gavin already didn’t need him. Neither did Michael. If Jeremy didn’t need him, he wouldn’t have a purpose any more.

“You really are very pretty,” Gavin commented.

Ryan looked up to see him approaching Jeremy. He wanted to put himself between them. _But wouldn’t they be better off without me anyway?_ Gavin’s hand reached towards Jeremy and Ryan closed his eyes. _This is the moment when I lose my purpose, my use._

_“I don’t need you any more,”_ echoed in his memory.

_Smack! Thud!_

Ryan reeled from the sudden pain exploding in his chest. His eyes popped open and saw Gavin on the ground with Jeremy’s boot pressing his sternum, one arm twisted up, hand pressed back painfully. 

“Don’t fucking touch me, Golden Boy,” Jeremy growled, “I don’t plan to let anyone touch me without my permission any more, so try it again and you’ll end up with something missing.”

Ryan nearly told his boner to fuck off out loud. _Jeremy doesn’t need me. Did he ever?_ If he didn’t need him, did that mean Jeremy _wanted_ him, _wanted_ to be with him?

“S-sorry!” Gavin quickly amended, “You’re right, that was fucked up of me. Hey, I’ll do your ID free as an apology.”

“The least you could do,” Jeremy grumbled, pulling his foot off him and helping him stand up, “You’re very grabby for a supposed professional.”

“Sorry, I get a little crazy around short guys,” Gavin confessed, nervously, “Hey, you should teach me how to do that! I’m trying to stop getting my ass kicked all the time. Vagabond actually taught me how to use knives.”

Ryan stiffened. _Ah, shit._

“Did he now?” Jeremy commented.

_Oh, that’s not a good tone. I’m in trouble._

“Well, he gave me a knife!” Gavin corrected, pulling said knife out, “This one. Then taught me the basic movement. I learned the rest on my own.”

_He kept the knife?_ Ryan felt a warmth in his chest. 

“The Vagabond as a Good Samaritan,” Jeremy mused, voice dark, “Who would’ve guessed?”

Ryan was pretty sure there was somewhere else he had to be. _Look at the time._

“He’s actually really nice!” Gavin insisted, “He saved me from three assholes who were messin’ me up pretty bad.”

_Pretty sure there’s other things to do. Like literally anything other than this._

“Then he saved me in an explosion!” Gavin went on, bouncing a bit, “He tackled me out of the way!”

_Gavin, shut up!!_

“And he came with me to intimidate this guy!” Gavin continued cheerfully, “Even though he didn’t have to!”

_Technically I didn’t do anything._

“Then he went on a heist a few days ago,” Gavin added, “And ran off without getting paid. He’s a good guy!”

_No, definitely not._

“You in love with the guy?” Jeremy grunted, “You sure go on about him.”

Ryan wanted to die.

“N-no! ‘Course not!” Gavin huffed, “I haven’t really gotten to know him. I mean, he could be way worse. Maybe he just likes young boys like they say.”

_This is the worst day of my life._

“I don’t think that’s true,” Jeremy muttered, “If he just wanted to fuck young _men,_ why bother with saving any one in particular? Or any three?”

Ryan glanced at Jeremy who was looking right at him. _Oh, boy. He figured it out._

“Y-you think so?” Gavin mumbled, fidgeting, “A-anyway! You’re ID will be ready in a few days. I’ll text Ryan when it’s ready, if that’s alright.”

“Sure thing,” Jeremy answered, “We should get going.”

He took Ryan’s arm again as they left.

“Jesus, that was scary!” He hissed, “Why didn’t you tell me you had more soulmates?!”

Ryan cleared his throat as he opened the car door for Jeremy. Jeremy seized the front of his shirt and yanked him down to eye level. Ryan swallowed nervously. 

“I...I thought you’d be...mad,” Ryan mumbled.

“I’m mad you didn’t tell me!” Jeremy snapped, “But now it makes sense! The boy in the bank! I-I thought you had, er, switched places with him or something. I’m connected to him! He’s also my soulmate!”

_Michael, but not Gavin. Interesting._

“So then the other day!” Jeremy exclaimed, “I thought it was you getting fucked! It was you fucking him. That’s why your dick felt familiar.”

Ryan snorted, trying not to laugh, but then Jeremy laughed, sending him over the edge too. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ryan muttered, “I’m losing my fucking mind.”

He stood up, closing Jeremy’s door. He needed therapy. Or a noose. Something like that. As he walked around to his side of the car, his phone beeped. _Oh no. That’s not good news._ He ducked in and hurriedly checked his security app. _The hotel._

He brought up the camera. Three people just broke into the place. Not proper burglars. No masks, no gloves. They all had service weapons. Pigs. How the hell did they trace them? He frowned at the feed, considering. Jeremy couldn’t have possibly been trying to trap him. There was too much personal information involved. Plus his place got trashed. No one else knew where they were. 

“Jeremy, did you turn your phone back on?” Ryan grunted.

“No?“ Jeremy answered, “I kept it off like you asked.”

“Did you tell anyone where you were staying?” Ryan questioned.

Jeremy shook his head.

“You said to keep everything secret,” he pointed out.

“Is there any information you gave anyone about the situation?” Ryan pressed, “Anything at all. A room number, someplace next door, anything?”

Jeremy opened his mouth then hesitated, looking away. Ryan’s hand tightened on his phone. _Fuck._

“I...I gave the vet the hotel phone number,” Jeremy admitted quietly.

Ryan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jeremy shrank away from him, crowding against his door.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan muttered, “I should’ve told you that’d be dangerous. They found the room. Three pigs just broke in dressed in civvies. We need to get you out of here faster.”

“What about Scooter?” Jeremy demanded, leaning back towards him, “You have a camera? Did you see him?”

Ryan frowned, looking back at the feed. He rewound it and found the cat bolting from the room.

“Looks like he ran for it,” Ryan answered.

“Did they chase him?” Jeremy pressed further, trying to peek at the phone, “Or did he get away?”

“I think he got away,” Ryan assured him.

Jeremy relaxed significantly.

“Don’t worry, cats can survive on the streets,” Ryan added, “He’ll be okay.”

“Right,” Jeremy mumbled, looking like he was going blank again, “He’ll be fine.”

Ryan noted his fist was clenched against his leg. He was really worried about the cat. _I should comfort him._ He reached out, hesitating, but finally managed to make himself do it. He laid his hand over Jeremy’s fist and squeezed, looking up into his eyes. Jeremy looked down at their hands and then up at him in surprise.

“I-I’m sorry,” Ryan mumbled, “It’ll be okay, we’ll figure it out, alright?”

Jeremy’s face softened into a smile and his fist unclenched. He nodded, looking much more relaxed. Ryan smiled back. _I did it! I did it! I comforted him!_ Jeremy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek again. Ryan blushed. He never realized the reward for proper social interaction could be so sweet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so tired. Sorry this took so long. 😩


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: recalling sexual, physical abuse and death

Jeremy was pale and shaking, the blank look was back as he stared at Ryan’s phone. The still image of the officers that busted in the hotel was open. Jeremy looked like he might vomit. 

“Jeremy?” Ryan called softly, “They hurt you, didn’t they?”

Jeremy didn’t answer. Ryan put his phone away, but Jeremy remained motionless. He was shut down, powered off like a computer that could handle any more information. Ryan knelt down and reached for his hand, laying his own over it and squeezing. Jeremy looked at him.

“Kill me,” he whispered.

“Jeremy, that’s...it’s not that serious,” Ryan tried to assure him, “We can still f-“

“How the hell would you know?!” Jeremy shrieked, “You don’t know shit! You have no idea how serious it is!”

Ryan squeezed both his hands with his.

“Whatever it is,” He insisted, “We’ll figure it out, okay? You ever heard of the Vagabond? A goddamn legend. And I happen to know the guy.”

Jeremy laughed, covering his face.

“You’re so amazing,” he mumbled, “You always make me feel better.”

“R-really?” Ryan stammered, “I-I do??”

Jeremy lowered his hands to put them on Ryan’s face.

“Yes, you dummy,” he muttered, “You’re amazing. I think I’m gonna fall in love with you. After this is all over.”

Ryan’s face went red and his eyes widened, darting away from Jeremy’s.

“Y-you t-too,” He sputtered.

Jeremy sighed heavily.

“Okay, I...need to tell you,” he murmured, hands dropping, “It’s only fair I tell you the whole thing.”

“Jeremy, it’s not necessary,” Ryan assured him, squeezing his hands.

“It is,” Jeremy insisted, “You’ll never understand how much trouble I’m in unless I explain.”

He tugged Ryan up, directing him to sit next to him on the bed. 

“When I was younger I was... different.”

He fidgeted a bit.

“I was a street kid,” he mumbled, “Parents basically not there. Thieving to eat. No real friends. The whole sob story. I met this pig who says he’ll help me out. All I gotta do is promise to become a pig. I agreed. I was put in a good foster home, suddenly not starving, in better clothes, going to school, real pauper to prince type deal. And I’m thinking, of course I want to be a cop. A cop helped me, I wanna help others. So I do it. First day in the precinct and I’m surrounded by cops. They broke six bones and fractured eight more.”

Ryan’s chest squeezed. He’d thought that was Gavin.

“Turns out, they have this...” Jeremy paused, thinking, “System, I guess? They pick up these kids with no hopes, no futures and no one to miss them even when they become adults. Lost boys is what they call us. They convince us to join up and then they use us like punching bags and fleshlights until we break. It’s some sort of sick therapy to them, I guess? Plus, we’re disposable. Objects to use and abuse as they please. Six months is the longest a lost boy has made it... other than me.”

Ryan _really_ didn’t want to know. He already felt like vomiting.

“Ten years,” Jeremy murmured.

Ryan pressed his mouth closed tightly, trying to stop the burning in his throat. _Ten. Ten years. Longer than I was in the navy. Jeremy..._

“Anyway, you don’t go ten years on the force and not learn some things,” he pressed on, “No lost boy ever gets promoted, but the longer I stuck around, the more they trusted that I wasn’t going to betray them. I became more of a pet, than a toy. Using that trust, I started gathering proof. I accumulated enough evidence to finally take it to the top, above the highest of the crooked assholes who are in on it.”

He winced, looking down.

“But then...I got injured at the bank,” he mumbled, rubbing his forearm, “A few of them had suspected I might be up to something. They used the injury as an excuse to get me a touch high on morphine. I said I had enough information to tear the place to the ground. I also said I had friends who would get the information if I died under mysterious circumstances. I managed to convince them that I was so high I didn’t even remember telling them that.

“So then I needed to hurry and get the info to the right person before they decided what they were going to do. But do you have any idea how long it takes to get a fucking audience with the governor when you can’t tell him your name or why you need to talk to him?! It’s fucking impossible! Then they came up with this scheme to catch you and get me killed in the crossfire. I knew it’d never work, those fucking idiots. But I was honestly more terrified of what they’d do when it didn’t work. Me alive, surrounded by a pile of dead cops?”

He shuddered. 

“Anyway, that’s why they’re after me so hard,” he finished with a sigh, “The three who went into the hotel. They’re the three who suspected I was up to something. They’re the three best detectives we’ve got.”

“Uh, no,” Ryan snorted, “They’d take the 2 to 4 slots. You are the best detective I’ve ever seen in Los Santos.”

Jeremy smiled sadly at him.

“Lost boys don’t get promoted,” he reminded him.

Ryan took his face in his hands.

“Well, I found you,” he grumbled, “So you can’t be all that lost.”

Jeremy’s eyes welled up with tears and he dove into his chest, burying his face in his shirt. Ryan pulled him onto his lap and held him closely. _Ten fucking years I’ve ignored you because of my selfishness. Ten years you fought alone._

“You don’t have to be alone any more,” He promised, squeezing his stinging eyes closed, “We’re going to fight them together. And we’re going to win.”

Jeremy held the back of his shirt tightly.

“Promise you won’t leave me,” He cried, muffled by Ryan’s shirt.

“I promise I will never willingly choose to leave you,” Ryan answered, then hesitated, “Will... you stay with me too?”

“Yes, I promise,” Jeremy choked.

Ryan felt some tense part of him relax, some part of his chest that he didn’t even realize was tensed. A part labeled “Jeremy”.

~

Ryan sighed heavily, rubbing at his temples. Jeremy’s hands rubbed over his shoulders and he leaned back against his chest. 

“What is it, love?” Jeremy asked, kissing the side of his head.

“I don’t think I can manage it alone,” Ryan admitted, bringing his hands up to where Jeremy’s arms hung loosely over his chest, “I’d have to form a crew. To get in and out alive. I’d need at least one electrical engineer, someone good with disguises and grifting, driver, possibly someone who could at least get us in the building.”

“So FAHC,” Jeremy concluded, “You need the Fake AH Crew.”

Ryan blinked slowly and tipped his head back to look up at him. Jeremy was squinting at his blueprints.

“You need someone scrawny for those vents too,” he pointed out, “Preferably someone halfway decent with a gun. BrownMan? He’s pretty tiny, I think. Is he with them now? I think we had him as an associate still, but he was running a lot of jobs with them.”

He looked down.

“What?” He grunted, “Something I said?”

“No, I’m just surprised you know about them, I guess,” Ryan admitted, shrugging, “Funny you should bring them up though... You know Mogar, right?”

“Yeah, he’s the electrical engineer,” Jeremy confirmed.

“Yeah, he’s your soulmate,” Ryan informed him, “The boy in the bank as you call him.”

“Oh, okay,” Jeremy hummed thoughtfully, “Do soul bonds work like magnets or something? Why are we all in the same area? In the same circles even. Weird.”

“I don’t know,” Ryan muttered, “But it does seem like every time I turn around, I’m bumping into one of you.”

“I kept bumping into you too,” Jeremy added, “You probably didn’t notice, but I was actually there on a lot of your jobs.”

“Really?” Ryan grunted, surprised, “I can’t say I did, but pig faces tend to blur together for me.”

“Hey, why do you hate cops so much?” Jeremy asked suddenly.

Ryan looked back down at the tablet. Ignoring the question was easier than just saying he didn’t want to say.

“Okay, got it,” Jeremy murmured, kissing his temple, “I’ll put that in the no asking pile. You run with FAHC a lot, are you going to join up?”

“No, I don’t do permanent crews,” Ryan muttered absently, “That would imply the Vagabond might care about someone.”

“That’s lonely,” Jeremy commented quietly.

“The Vagabond doesn’t get lonely,” Ryan dismissed.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“What about Ryan?” Jeremy questioned, voice quiet.

Ryan looked up, staring at the wall. What about Ryan? He ached suddenly, a million pains from his memory springing forth to remind him how often he was without a single friendly soul. He’d had a few companions, but no one that actually gave a shit about him. He was a magnet for douchebags. Every part of him suddenly needed to be touched. He was cold. He leaned back again, pressing firmly against Jeremy’s chest, trying to absorb some of his heat.

“Ryan is always lonely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there’s that.
> 
> @1stworldmutant for more of my dad life.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: recalling past abuse/death

Jeremy gasped, hands slapping over the mask Ryan had gotten him. Ryan frowned, following his gaze. _Michael?_ Did he recognize him? 

“Michael Jones!” Jeremy hissed, “Michael Jones is fucking Mogar?!”

“You know him?” Ryan muttered.

“Sch-school, I-I went to school w-with him,” Jeremy sputtered, “No one wanted to be our friend, so we sorta just became friends. He went back east after we graduated. Mogar. Mogar’s been active for what, seven years? Holy shit, he’s been back that long?! Oh my god, and he’s my soulmate?!”

_That magnet theory is really gaining evidence._

“I’m freaking out,” Jeremy hissed, “Hold my hand!”

Ryan squeezed his hand tightly. They both winced and so did Michael, mid-conversation with Gavin. _Shit, bad hand._

“Oh my god,” Jeremy whispered, “It’s really him!”

Ryan squeezed his knee.

“I’m okay,” He muttered, puffing out a breath, “S-sorry, I just wasn’t prepared for that.”

They got out of the car and walked up to join the other two. 

“Heya, V!” Gavin squawked, tackling him as always, “Where the hell have you been?!”

Ryan smiled softly, running his hand through his hair. Gavin grinned up at him, chin resting on Ryan’s chest.

“Did you miss me, V?” He teased.

Ryan tilted his head with a hum then shrugged. Gavin pouted and Ryan laughed. _I did miss you._

“You’re a meanie,” Gavin huffed.

He straightened up, grabbing his shoulders suddenly. 

“Hey, can we do it after?” He asked excitedly, “Michael said we can come over again. Right, Micool?”

“I didn’t,” Michael grunted, “But sure, I guess.”

Ryan nearly choked on his tongue. He gestured at Jeremy.

“Rimmy Tim,” he introduced.

Gavin looked at him and grinned.

“Oh, you are definitely invited,” he assured, winking.

“Seconded,” Michael added, “I love short guys who look like they could throw me around.”

Jeremy covered his eyes, shaking his head.

“All your friends like this?” He grumbled.

Ryan laughed, shaking his head as well. _I’m actually losing my damn mind._ Before anyone could say anything else insane, a bugle horn went off. His back straightened and he started to move to attention.

_ Thunk! _

“Fuck!” BrownMan’s voice barked.

Gavin grunted, rubbing his forehead. Ryan’s eyes went wide. _What?! BrownMan?! What?!_ The man in question heaved himself out of Michael’s car with a miserable groan. Gavin dropped his hand, eyes darting around to check if anyone had noticed. Ryan made sure he was looking at BrownMan when Gavin glanced at him. 

_Jesus, look at this tangled up web._

~

Jeremy, King, and Ryan entered the governor’s office together. The call to security was answered by Gavin who told him security was busy taking naps. Jeremy pulled the USB and plugged it into his computer. Then he opened the video he’d edited together. The governor paled and covered his mouth in horror. 

“No one cares,” Jeremy spoke quietly, but clearly, “No one gives a fuck about the lost boys. We mean nothing. We’re less than human. In death we’re as invisible as in life. It’s like we didn’t exist in the first place. Take a look at this list. Toby? Ate a bullet after three weeks. Kara? They beat her to death. Alex? Their appendix exploded, but they had no idea because they were in such constant agony. And Jeremy? Well, in a way, Jeremy’s the most unlucky of them all.”

He took the mask off.

“Because I kept living,” he whispered, “Ten years, sir, I’ve been gathering this information. Ten years, I’ve been an object for their anger and pleasure. Ten years, I’ve watched my siblings die, watched the other lost boys break over and over again. By some miracle, I’m still here. But I can only do so much. I need you to help me. I need you to clean up San Andreas. Isn’t that what you promised, sir?”

The governor dropped his hands and nodded.

“Mr. Dooley, you can count on me,” he assured him firmly, “You won’t be invisible any more.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jeremy answered, sighing, “That’s a relief to hear. I’ll leave it to you, then.”

They shook hands and Jeremy moved for the door. He stepped out and Ryan pressed a knife to the governor’s throat.

“Listen closely, _sir,”_ King growled, “You will deliver, Mr. Governor or Jeremy won’t be able to stop us from revisiting you on much less friendly terms. Am I understood?”

“Yes, understood,” The man answered, nodding firmly.

Ryan almost wanted to rub his eyes to double check he was seeing actual spine and sincerity from a politician. He pulled away and King led the way out of the office. That went bizarrely well. He was starting to get nervous.

~

“Jeremy?!” Gavin and Michael shouted as Ryan and Jeremy joined them.

Jeremy touched his face with an annoyed grunt.

“Fuck, I forgot the mask!” He hissed, “What a dumbass!”

“Wait, how do you know him?!” Gavin and Michael shouted at each other.

“He used to be my best friend!” Michael answered, “He was my only friend, really. Only guy willing to be friends with the guy who got held back so many years. I thought you were dead!”

Jeremy cleared his throat.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, “I g-got in some trouble. But hopefully that’s over now.”

“You were why we were doing this job?” Gavin spoke up.

“Yes, it was for me,” Jeremy confirmed, “Thank you for your help.”

Michael suddenly launched towards him and squeezed him tightly. Jeremy hugged him back just as tightly.

“I missed you so much,” he mumbled, “I thought you were staying in Alderney?”

“Uh, I also ran into some trouble,” Michael answered, “I missed you too.”

“Wait, if that’s Jeremy!” Gavin exclaimed, “Then that’s Ryan!”

He pointed accusingly at Vagabond. Ryan reeled a second, surprised to suddenly be called by his name. 

“Oh my god!” Gavin gasped, “If you’re Ryan, then you’re two! Micool, Vagabond is two!!”

_ What?! _

“What are you talking about, Gavin?” Michael muttered, pulling away from Jeremy.

“He’s talking about Vagabond being your soul mate,” BrownMan spoke up suddenly, “The one you share.”

Everyone turned to him.

“H-he’s right,” Gavin confirmed, “But...”

There was a knife in Ryan’s hand.

“How did _you_ know that?” He growled.

“Because I’m the one who shot you,” he replied.

Ryan was on him, fist in his shirt and knife to his throat.

“Who sent you?!” He snarled in his face.

“The United States Armed Forces,” BrownMan answered, “Special Agent Ray Narvaez Jr. at your service, Lt. Haywood.”

He snapped off a salute that Ryan fought the instinct to return. 

“How the fuck did you find me?” He demanded.

“Well, took awhile,” Narvaez admitted, “What with the mysteriously missing records and lack of photos. But...”

He carefully pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. Ryan flinched, going pale.

“Your commanding officer drew us a picture,” Narvaez continued, “And we happened to catch a glimpse of you at last. Of course, I’m the only one who knows you’re the one behind the mask, Lt. Haywood.”

“D-Don’t c-call me that!” Ryan choked, “That’s not me! I stop being him! He is dead!”

He snatched the drawing, crumpling it up. 

“You’ve been sitting on this,” he guessed, “What’s your game?”

“Unfortunately, you’re soul bonded with my soulmate,” Narvaez answered, “I can’t just haul you in. It may hurt him in the end.”

“Why?” Ryan shouted, “Why after all this time?”

“Your commanding officer is very keen on finding you,” Narvaez explained, “He’s very worried about you. He said you were always his favorite.”

Ryan stumbled backwards away from him, dropping the knife.

“Love?” Jeremy called, “What is it?”

Ryan’s head jerked to him. He was staring at him with concern. So were Michael and Gavin. Eyes eyes eyes. Staring at him. They’d done it, they’d pull all the layers back and found the center. The weak little boy who couldn’t fight off two drunk pigs or his commanding officer. He was weak little James and they could see him. They could see the boy who could only ever do one thing: run. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, tearfully.

He ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, bitch u thought. Anyway, 12 is the last chapter. Almost done. ^_^
> 
> @1stworldmutant cuz I said so.


	12. Chapter 12

_Okay, should’ve expected this._

Ryan sighed, glancing at the car pulled level with him. Michael was in the passenger seat frantically waving at him to roll his window down and Jeremy was past him in the driver’s. He scowled at him and Ryan pressed the gas pedal, focusing on the road.

_Crash!_

Ryan’s window exploded, glass spraying over him like blood from a carotid artery. Michael’s face was pulled into a snarl and he had a baseball bat in his hand. He was hanging out of the window.

“You fucking cuck!” He yelled, “Pull the fuck over before I break your pretty face!”

“Michael, don’t fucking threaten him!” Jeremy snapped.

“Dooley, you can kiss my fucking ass!” Michael snarled, turning to look at him.

“Ryan!” Gavin called from the back passenger seat, “Please, let us help you! Ray isn’t going to hurt you! He wants to help! Ryan, please!”

“Don’t call me that!” Ryan shrieked, “I can’t be Ryan! I have to be the Vagabond!”

“No you don’t!” Gavin yelled, “You can be Ryan! You can be who you are and we will have your back!”

“Being Ryan let him find me!” Ryan cried, “Vagabond protects me, I have to be him!”

Gavin reached through the windows and tore the mask off him.

“Admit to the truth, Ryan!” He growled, “You don’t wear the mask because to keep others out. You wear it to keep yourself in. You wear it because you’re terrified of who you are or aren’t beneath it!”

Ryan stared at him, eyes filled with tears. Gavin squeezed the mask to his chest, hugging it as though to keep it safe.

“A mask can’t protect your sense of self,” He recited, “But it can certainly destroy it. You don’t know who Ryan is, but we can find him! Together!”

Ryan’s jaw clenched and he stared out the windshield, eyes blurry. _Together._ He let off the gas and pulled over, slamming the brake and turning off the car. He dropped his head against the steering wheel, sobbing. _Together._

“Ry, let Jeremy see your wounds,” Gavin ordered at his window.

Ryan pushed the door open and turned, boots crunching on glass and gravel. Gavin held out the mask. Ryan grabbed it and tossed it over his shoulder like a forgotten piece of trash. Then he pulled Gavin onto his lap and buried his face in his chest.

“Heal me, kitty,” he murmured through his tears. 

Gavin put a hand against the back of his head and looped the other around his shoulders. He pressed his head to Ryan’s forehead. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispered, “We all have your back. No more running, okay?”

“Okay,” Ryan sniffled into his shirt.

Jeremy gently bandaged up the cuts from the glass, grumbling about Michael being an idiot. Ryan just cried into Gavin’s shirt leaving black streaks all over it from his paint. When he finally pulled back, Gavin gently kissed him on the lips. He pulled back as well to show him his hand was all black from his hair paint. 

“No more of this!” He huffed, “I hate it!”

Ryan looked at his stained fingers and almost started crying again. He tugged his glove off and held his hand up to Gavin’s. _We match._ He looked into Gavin’s eyes. Gavin was smiling gently as he looked at their hands. 

_You wear it because you’re terrified of who you are or aren’t beneath it!_

Ryan shuddered, pressing their hands together and lacing his fingers through Gavin’s. Gavin looked at him, gentle smile still in place. His beautiful eyes were so sorrowful and lonely that Ryan’s chest ached. _Everyone in Los Santos wears a mask._

He looked around at the men around him. _Five._ He burst into laughter.

“Five, we’re a gang!” He wheezed around laughter, “We’re a fucking gang!”

“One more and we could be MLP,” Michael snorted.

“We’re MTG as it stands,” Ray muttered, “You’re red, Mogar based on the way you burn everything around you.”

“Yeah, well you’re black,” Michael threw back, “Based on your creepy behind the scenes style.”

“Racist!” Ray hissed.

“Jeremy’s white!” Gavin exclaimed, “‘Cause he’s a healer.”

“That’d make you green,” Ryan muttered, “Considering your speak loudly, carry a big stick method.”

“And you’re blue,” Jeremy added, “Because you’re like a mastermind.”

There was a pause and then they just laughed. Ryan couldn’t remember ever feeling so much at peace. They had a long, long road ahead of them, but for once he didn’t feel exhausted, he felt ready.

“Yo, I’m a horny fucker, so just ignore me,” Ray mumbled, “But I’m just saying, we could be a fuck train. Dibs on the engine position.”

“Dibs on caboose!” Jeremy chimed in.

“Coal car! That’s behind the engine,” Gavin called out, winking at Ray.

“Guess that makes me a passenger car, behind Gavin,” Michael grunted, “And Ry’s a cargo car behind me.”

Ryan went red, ashamed it actually got him half hard thinking about it. 

“Th-There’s no way i-it’d work,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, maybe, but now you’re thinking about it, right?” Ray answered dryly, “Fuck train has no brakes. Once it’s in your head, it’s in for good.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ryan muttered, “This is my life now.”

He tried to look stern, but looking at them just made affection surge inside him and he grinned widely. Yeah, this was his life now. Thank goodness for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I put in a Magic the Gathering reference. @1stworldmutant if you wanna fight about it.
> 
> Anyway, this is the end, unfortunately. But never fear, there will still be more fics! Thank you so much for reading! Stars to dust! May your path stay lit, little stars! ✨


End file.
